


The Adventures of Hamish and William Watson-Holmes

by Silvaimagery



Series: Improbability [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Detective Work, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Parent!lock, cases, family business, kids being kids, mystrade, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2130459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvaimagery/pseuds/Silvaimagery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reading about the adventures his parent’s had had was fun but solving cases with his brother was better.  Though not all of them were worthy of his blog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Case of the Missing Blue Sock

**Author's Note:**

> Hamish is eight and William is seven. These are just some short fics I pieced together about Hamish and William’s adventures.

I enter the room to find Hamish throwing our clothes all over the floor.

“Where is it?” He asks.

“What? What are you doing?”

“My sock. Where is it?”

“What sock?”

“My blue sock Will!”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“Dad! DAD!”

I can hear Dad pounding up the stairs in a panic.

“What is it? What happened? Billy? Hammy, you alright?”

“No I’m not alright. Where is my blue sock? The midnight blue one Papa gave me last year.”

“What?” Dad asks confused.

He looks at me and I shrug.

“That’s what I said.” I tell him.

“Ugh! My sock index is incomplete without the pair. You did laundry two days ago and my socks were in the pile. I know because I wore them four days ago and I got one back with my clean clothes. But the other is missing. You don’t take socks to the dry cleaners, socks aren’t like my shirts and slacks. So you washed them here. Unlikely you would have left it in the drier. You always double check, you’re anal about that. So where is it?”

“You are just brilliant do you know that?” Dad smiles.

“Maybe he put it in Papa’s pile.” I say.

“Maybe.” Hamish says pushing me aside before rushing out of the room.

“Hamish.” Dad says going after him.

I look at them mess.

“I’m not cleaning this up.” I tell Skully, the skull my brother kept on his nightstand.

He smiles back at me.

I roll my eyes and go in search of ice cream.

Papa always hid the good ice cream in the back behind the severed body parts.

He thought no one knew, but I did.

Hamish wasn’t the only smarty pants around here.

I walk into the kitchen.

Gladstone was lying under the kitchen table.

Not sure that was a safe place what with Papa’s science equipment so close by.

“What was all the commotion?” Papa asks me.

He’s bent over his microscope.

“Socks.”

“Ah.”

If I walked past Papa he would get distracted and I didn’t want him to pay attention to what I was doing so I walk to the sink, rinse my hands and then I walk to the freezer.

I pretend to be looking at a bag of frozen chicken while I glance behind the thumbs.

“On the right.” Papa says.

“What?” I ask turning to look at him.

He looks at me.

“To the right, behind the ears.” He smiles before going back to what he was doing.

“You knew.”

“Of course.”

“How?”

“I’m Sherlock Watson-Holmes, I know everything.”

“Everything?”

He blinks.

“Well, maybe not everything.”

I pull out the carton of Ben & Jerry’s.

“Want to share?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t be adverse.”

I smile at him before grabbing a bowl.

Gladstone barks for his share of the treat.

*********************

Hamish sighs again.

I roll over onto my side.

His sighing becomes louder.

“Stop it. I’m trying to sleep.” I groan.

Gladstone snores loudly from under my bed.

“How can you sleep in this time of crisis?”

“It’s just a sock.”

“It is not just a sock. Anyway, that is not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“I don’t know, I’ve deleted it.”

“Oh my god.”

“I have to find out what happened to my sock.”

“So just go down to the laundry room and look around.”

“Come with me.”

“No. Why?”

“I might need you to move some appliances.”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“You play sports.”

“And you take martial arts.”

“That just makes me limber. You’re the one who’s all…athletic.”

I sigh.

I know that if I didn’t get up then he was just going to bother me until I did.

And I really wanted to sleep.

“Fine.”

I fling my bed sheet off of me.

“How do you know Papa isn’t sleeping? Sometimes he’s very quiet, especially if he’s in his mind palace.” I say putting on my slippers.

“Not tonight. Tonight was ‘date night’ remember?”

“And?”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“They always have sex on ‘date night’.”

“How is it different from all the other times they have sex?”

“Tonight is special. Well. Dad will think it’s special so Papa would indulge him which means that they will be snuggling in bed.”

“That doesn’t mean Papa is sleeping.”

“Doesn’t matter. You can be quiet can’t you?”

“I can. I just didn’t think you could shut up long enough to sneak down stairs.”

He glares at me.

I get up and he follows me to the door.

I slowly open it and listen for a second.

Hamish wasn’t always right.

No matter what he thought.

Hamish pokes my back.

I swat his hand away.

“Go on.” He whispers.

We tiptoe down the stairs.

The doors to the sitting room and the kitchen were open.

Hamish motions for me to go on.

I poke my head through the sitting room but its dark and Papa shaped shadows aren’t present.

I move towards the kitchen and again, he isn’t there.

Gladstone comes sliding down the stairs.

“Shh!” Hamish and I tell him.

He looks up at us.

“Quiet Gladstone.” Hamish tells him.

We move down to the lower level.

Nana would be out cold so no worries there.

I walk carefully towards the stairs leading down to the laundry room.

“Wait. How are we supposed to see?”

“Probably should have thought of that.” He says looking thoughtful.

Figures.

“Well I’m not going down there in the dark.”

“Will.”

“No.”

“Scared of the dark?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Just do it!”

“Fine. You know that you can be a real pain in the ass, don’t you?”

He smirks and crosses his arms.

He lifts his head in superiority.

“I’m going to tell Dad you said that.”

“No you’re not.” I say descending the stairs.

“Yes. I am.”

“No you’re not.”

He follows behind, Gladstone in his arms.

“How can you be sure?”

I turn to look at him.

“Because if you blab then I’m going to tell him how that fire in our wardrobe really started.”

“It was an experiment.”

“Yes. And Papa told you not to conduct it without adult supervision and to avoid flammable areas. Hence the small fire.”

“It was contained.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Fine. No one blabs. How’s that?”

“Fine with me.”

He puts Gladstone down and holds out his hand.

I shake it.

It was nice to get one up on my brother.

“So which do you want to check first?”

“The washer.”

“Alright. And how are we going to see if your stupid sock is there?”

“Move it and then I will flick the light on long enough for you to check.”

“You know that you’re just going to get us into trouble.”

“Yes.” He says nodding. “But you know you love it.”

“Yes I do. God help me.”

I move the washer which makes a couple of loud scraping noises.

I wince.

“Okay.” I tell him.

He flickers on the light.

“Yes.” I say reaching down for the crumpled and dirty sock.

It was covered in dirt and lint.

He turns off the light and comes rushing up to me.

He snatches the sock out of my hand.

“Aha!”

“Shh!”

“Good. Now move the washer back.” He says turning away, his night gown flowing behind him like some bloody cape.

“What?”

“We found what we were looking for so now put it back.”

“At least help me.”

He sighs but he moves to help me push the washer back into place.

“So you’re sock was in between the washer and drier this whole time?”

“Yes.”

“And you made a big deal out of it because?”

“Well, it’s my sock.”

“A lot of people fall victim to missing socks every year.” I say patting his shoulder. “It’s a fact of life.”

Gladstone snorts.

“No it’s not. Shut up.” Hamish says frowning at the both of us.

“It’s true. There’s a whole conspiracy theory online.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Guess you’re going to have to check and see eh?”

I move towards the stairs.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Alright. I don’t.” He says following. “But you are very trying some times.”

“I know.” I smile. “But then so are you.”


	2. The Dancing Man

“William.”

I turn at the sound of the harsh whisper.

Hamish waves at me from between the bookshelves.

I look at Mrs. Blanche but she’s not paying attention to me.

I turn back to look at my brother.

He waves me over.

I get up slowly and walk towards my brother, making sure no one is paying attention to me.

Hamish grabs my arm and leads me further between the stacks of books.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper.

“I was bored. I thought I’d come and see what you were doing.”

“How did you even get here? Your school is on the other side of town.”

“I got a cab.” He shrugs.

“How did you get a cab? How did you even pay the cabby?”

“Phillip gave me money.”

“He gave you money.”

“He doesn’t know but yes.”

“You stole money from Uncle Phil?”

“He’s not really our Uncle and I pickpocket him. There is a difference.”

“No there isn’t.”

“Whatever. Quiet time? Really? You must be bored to tears.”

“Yes. But I still have to participate.”

“Why? Come on.” He says grabbing my arm.

“I can’t just leave.”

“Sure you can.”

“Do your instructors know you left the school grounds?”

“I’m sure they will. Eventually.” He smiles.

I shake my head but I can’t help but smile back.

“You are going to be in so much trouble.”

He shrugs.

“Everyone there is stupid anyways.”

“Your professors are recognized and well respected in their fields.”

He waves a hand in dismissal.

“I don’t see why we have to go to separate schools anyways. I should just stay here.”

“If you’re bored in your posh private school, how well do you think you’ll fare dealing with commoners every day?”

“You’re not common. Besides, I’m sure I won’t be all that bored if you’re around to distract me.”

My chest fills with warmth.

I squeeze my brother’s hand in mine.

He smiles before putting his ‘public’ face back on.

“So what’s the deal with this school anyways?” He says looking at the books.

He grabs one and leafs through it.

“Well I don’t know what everyone else is doing but in my class we are going to start writing to pen pals.”

“Pen pals?” He asks, confusion evident on his face.

“Yes.”

“What is pen pals?”

“We get assigned a child within our age range who lives in another country.”

“Ah. And what do you do?”

“We write to each other. You know, share likes and dislikes. Compare our lives and such.”

“Sounds boring and tedious.”

“I think it might be nice.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s good to make friends.”

“Friends.” He scoffs.

“You might want to try it.”

“For what? You’re my friend. That is more than enough.”

He was being nice today.

He really must have been bored.

“Yes. But we’re also brothers.”

“So?”

“So sometimes it’s good to know people who aren’t your family.”

“Like I said, tedious.”

The bell rings.

“I have to go now.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You can’t.”

“Sure I can.”

I look at his school uniform.

“You aren’t going to blend in like that.”

“It’s fine. People are idiots, they’ll believe anything.”

“Hammy.”

“It’ll be fine Will. Trust me.”

I stare at him before nodding.

I go back to my group.

“Ah William. There you are. Come on, time to get back to our home room.”

“Yes Mrs. Blythe.”

“Who is this young man?”

“This is-”

“Charles Augustus.” Hamish says holding out his hand.

“Hello Mr. Augustus.” Mrs. Blythe says shaking Hamish’s hand. “What are you doing here? You don’t go to this school.”

“Not yet. My parents are talking with the principle. I might move to this school.”

“Oh.”

“I was told to look around.”

“I see. How old are you?”

“Eight.”

“So you might be placed with our group. Good. William, why don’t you show Mr. Augustus around the school since you’ve already met him?”

I nod.

“I will be expecting you back in home room after lunch.” She tells me.

“Yes Mrs. Blythe.”

She nods before leaving the library.

Hamish dances around in victory.

“See?”

“Charles Augustus?” I ask.

“Saw it in one of Papa’s files.” He claps his hands. “Where should we go to first?”

“Lunch room? You didn’t eat breakfast.”

“I ate some.”

“Two grapes and a sip of milk is not breakfast.”

“Fine.”

We walk down the hallway towards the lunch room.

The janitor was sweeping the hallway, though he frequently stopped to scratch at his arms and legs.

Hamish stops to stare at him.

“What?” I ask.

“Just curious.” He says.

We watch the janitor for a few minutes.

He did look funny hoping from foot to foot as he scratched his leg and his back.

Hamish walks towards him.

I follow.

The janitor looks at us as he scratches the back of his neck.

“What can I help you kids with?” He asks scratching his arm.

“Can I see your arm?” Hamish asks.

“My arm?”

“Yes.”

The janitor stares at us.

I try to put on my ‘we come in peace’ face as I had seen Dad do.

“Alright.”

He holds out his arm.

Hamish pulls out his magnifying glass from his pocket.

It was identical to the one Papa used on cases.

He pushes the sleeve up the janitor’s arm.

“Hmm.” He says.

“What?” I ask peering over his shoulder.

“Now your leg.” He instructs.

I watch him inspect the janitor’s leg.

Finally Hamish stands.

“Bed bugs.”

“What?” The janitor and I ask in unison.

“The small bites on your person, they were made by bed bugs.”

“Bed bugs?” The janitor asks.

“Yes. Mosquitos never bite at this magnitude. I estimate that you have about thirty bites on your body.”

“Could be ants.” I say.

“No. Ant bites are very different. As is that of spiders and mosquitos. I have studied bug bites very extensively. They all leave a very distinct patterns. What you have is bed bugs. I suggest getting rid of your mattress and spray your flat for bed bugs.”

“Uh, thank you?”

Hamish nods before walking away.

“Yes. Well. Good luck with that.” I say before following my brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hamish is in middle school, in the sixth to seventh grade range. William is in the third to fourth grade range. I don’t know what the equivalent would be in Europe.


	3. The Sleeping Dragon

“Oh god, why do we have to stay here?” Hamish says exasperated.

“That’s always what an Uncle likes to hear when his nephews are visiting.” Uncle Greg says.

“Uncle Greg.” I say.

“Hey Billy.”

I hug him.

“Hammy.” Uncle Greg says.

Hamish lets him pull him sideways into a hug.

“You two look more and more like your parents every day. Not sure how I feel about that yet.” He smiles.

I smile back.

Hamish rolls his eyes.

“I’ve started reading your blog.” Uncle Greg tells me.

“What do you think?”

He chuckles.

“I love it.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, chatter. I’ll just go to the room assigned to me now.” Hamish says slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking away.

“Is he wearing Sherlock’s coat?” Uncle asks me.

I snort.

“No. He’s still too short for that. Dad gave it to him.”

“Nice. He’s certainly got the attitude and the mystery to pull it off.”

“That’s what Dad said.”

He smiles.

“Well. You know where your room is. I’ll be in the kitchen making us a snack.”

I nod.

I go up the stairs and down the long hallway to my room.

Hamish pokes his head out of his room.

“Get in here.” He says.

“Please.” I say.

He sighs.

“Please.” He repeats.

“I’m just going to-”

“No.” He says going back into the room.

I take a deep breath.

Just let it go Will old boy.

He was your brother and homicide was still frowned upon even if it was justifiable.

I take my bag with me into Hamish’s room.

“What?”

He’s lying back on his bed, his hands pressed together and his fingertips touching his chin.

“You know that you look like you’re praying when you do that?” I say sprawling over the plush love seat he had in his room.

“I was thinking-”

“No kidding?”

He glares at me for a moment before looking back up at the ceiling.

“I was thinking that people always say that you look like Dad and I look like Papa.”

“And? Siblings don’t always look like each other.”

“I know that. But even then siblings share some similarity. Whether it be a mole in a specific part of the body, hair color, eye color, nose, mouth, facial structure. Something.”

“We kind of have the same…”

He stares at me.

“Okay. We look nothing like each other. What’s the big deal?”

“I have a confession.”

“Uh, on a scale of one to ten how bad is it?”

“Mmm, no more than a six.”

“Okay. Give it to me.”

“I compared our DNA.”

“What? When?”

“Last time we went to the lab.”

“You mean when we were supposed to be helping Auntie Molly clean equipment?”

“Yes.”

“And? What did you find?”

My heart beats rapidly in my chest.

“Comparing them to the DNA on file of our father’s, you are biologically related to Dad and I am related to Papa. Which explains why you and I don’t look alike.”

“Okay?”

“Mycroft-”

“Uncle Mycroft.” I correct.

“Will you stop interrupting me?” He snaps.

“Nope.”

He sighs exasperated.

“Uncle Mycroft must have files on our mothers. Unlikely he would keep them at his office since it has nothing to do with his work. So he would keep them here.”

“Why are you suddenly interested in who our mothers are?”

“Aren’t you? Dad and Papa never speak of it. Who were these women?”

“I don’t think it matters.”

“Don’t you see? If your mother is still out there then she has a right to claim you as her son. And I am not going to let some strange woman come and take you away just because she suddenly got the urge to know the son she abandoned.”

“Well what about your mother?”

“Chances are that my mother is dead.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I heard Papa and Dad discussing my inheritance.”

“Your…maybe they meant the one they intend leave us?”

“No. They were speaking in past tense tones.”

I bite my lip.

“We have to find out what happened.” He says with finality.

“How?”

“I am almost sure that Uncle Mycroft will have the documents in his office or on his computer.”

“We can’t hack into his computer! He has state secrets in there.”

He looks thoughtful.

“Hamish.”

“Alright, fine. I’m not going to read those. I just want to see any information he has on our mothers.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?”

“Tonight. When he’s asleep.”

“Hammy.” I say shaking my head.

“Will.”

I look at him.

“We have to know.”

“Alright, yes.”

************************

We tiptoe down the stairs.

It seemed like we snuck around in the dark most of the time.

And somehow I always ended up leading the way.

We walk down the dark hallway.

“Oh shit.” I whisper as the suit of armor appears out of nowhere. “Forgot that was there.”

Hamish snorts.

“Shut up.”

He giggles.

Alright.

So it was kind of funny.

But those things were creepy in the dark.

“Hey. Do you think Uncle Mycroft has cameras hidden in these things?”

“Good question. I don’t know.”

“Right.”

I resist the urge to peek into the helmet of one of them.

With my luck it would all come tumbling down.

And being caught before you commit the crime was embarrassing.

The door to the study was closed.

I open it slowly and peer into the small opening.

“What do you see?” Hamish whispers.

I push the open a little wider.

“Oh shit.” I say backing away.

“What?” Hamish asks.

“He’s in there.”

“Uncle Mycroft?”

I nod.

I was pretty sure I had seen the back of his head.

Hamish peers in.

He straightens.

“I think he’s sleeping.” He says.

“We can’t go in there now.”

He bites his lip before looking into the study again.

“Hamish.”

He looks at me.

I knew what that look meant.

“Hell no.”

“Will.”

“Sod this. I’m going back to my room.”

He grabs my arm.

“We can do this.”

“Then go do it because I am not moving from this spot unless it’s to go back upstairs.”

“I need your help.”

I resist looking at him because I know he is giving me his earnest look.

I know he learned it from Gladstone.

Damn that dog.

I can’t avoid my brother’s gaze for long.

“I hate how you always talk me into things.”

He smiles.

“We’ll just root around his desk. We can’t hack into his computer now.”

“Obviously.”

He gets on his knees and opens the door further.

He crawls in and I follow.

We stop behind the couch.

Hamish motions for me to see and make sure Uncle Mycroft was sleeping.

I shake my head.

He frowns and motions harder.

I roll my eyes but do as I’m told.

I peer over the back of the sofa.

From what I can see of his face, it does look like he has his eyes closed.

But a man like Mycroft Holmes would not be a heavy sleeper.

I sit back down and nod at Hamish.

He goes to crawl around the side of the sofa towards the desk.

I grab his arm and hold my finger to my lips indicating that he should be silent.

He nods before crawling away.

Once he’s made it across the room he motions for me to follow.

I swallow.

My heart was beating rapidly and my hands felt clammy.

We would be in so much trouble in Uncle Mycroft found us in here.

I crawl around the side of the sofa, peering at Uncle Mycroft.

His eyes were still closed and his breathing was even.

I was so scared right now.

I crawl quickly over to Hamish resisting the urge to look back.

I breathe a sigh of relief once we are hidden behind the big heavy desk.

Hamish starts opening drawers.

I open the ones on my side.

Hamish elbows me.

I turn to look at him.

He motions to the bottom drawer.

It was locked.

I take out our small tool kit.

Thank you Papa.

While Hamish broke into the bottom drawer I peer over the top of the desk.

I hold my breath as Uncle Mycroft lifts his head.

I motion for Hamish to stop.

He holds his breath and waits for my signal.

Uncle Mycroft reclines his head back against the back of the couch and continues sleeping.

I motion for Hamish to continue.

He gets the drawer open.

He takes out the files he finds.

He hands me a few and we start going through them quickly.

Uncle Greg might come down and wake Uncle Mycroft.

“Look.” Hamish says pointing at one of the papers.

It was a birth certificate.

“Charles Augustus Magnussen. Father: Sherlock Holmes. Mother: Charlize Augustus Magnussen.” I whisper.

What?

Hamish takes out our digital camera and takes a photograph.

He moves on to the paper underneath that one.

“And this one.” He says pointing.

There was no child name.

“Father: John Watson. Mother: Amanda Reynard Augustus.”

Augustus.

Same name that had also been in the other birth certificate.

Hamish takes a picture of that document too.

Photographs fall out of the files I was holding.

I pick them up.

“Hamish, is this Papa?”

He leans in close to me to look at the photographs.

“Maybe.”

I look through the other photographs.

“Look.”

I point at the boys.

Hamish giggles.

“Shh.”

He covers his mouth.

He grabs the photographs and puts them in his pocket.

We can barely contain our giggling.

I hand my brother the file.

He puts everything back in the drawer.

I take a deep breath.

We had to sneak back out of here.

Hamish snorts.

“Stop it.” I whisper.

“Sorry.” He says wiping his eyes.

I swallow down my laughter.

I peer back over the desk.

Uncle Mycroft stares back at me.

“Oh shit!”

“Indeed.” He says standing.

I look down at Hamish.

“Please come out from there.” Uncle Mycroft says.

“We were just….” I say.

“Yes?” Uncle Mycroft asks with a small smile.

“Uh.”

“What? This isn’t the library. So sorry.” Hamish says standing.

He grabs my arm and leads me towards the door.

“Nice try.” Uncle Mycroft says. “If you could give it back now please.” He says holding out his hand.

“Give what back?” Hamish asks.

“Whatever you took.”

“What makes you think we took anything?” I ask.

Uncle Mycroft lifts an eyebrow.

I raise an eyebrow back at him.

“Alright. Yes, you caught us.” Hamish says taking the photographs out of his pocket.

“Thank you.” Uncle Mycroft says taking it.

“Will dared me.” Hamish says.

“No I didn’t. You liar!”

“Yes you did. Don’t pretend.”

“You-”

“Yes, alright. That is enough. Now I think it’s past both your bedtimes.” Uncle Mycroft says.

“Fine.” Hamish says leaving the room.

“Uh. So sorry.”

“No harm done.” Uncle Mycroft says.

I nod.

“Good night.”

“Good night William.”

I close the door behind me as I exit the room.

“You lying sack of shit.” I tell Hamish as I catch up to him at the stairs.

“I had to get us out of there.”

“By putting it all on me?”

“It worked didn’t it?”

“I am very cross with you right now.”

“Not for long.”

“How do you figure?”

He takes the camera out of his pocket.

“I took a picture of the photographs.”

He shows me.

I giggle.

“Who is he supposed to be?” I ask.

“The bald kid in the comics?”

“Charlie Brown?”

“Yes.” He says.

I giggle.

“And Papa is a pirate apparently.” He snorts.

“The eye patch covers most of his face.”

Hamish and I giggle back to our rooms.

Tomorrow we would solve the mystery of our mothers.

Tonight we had uncovered something more valuable.

Baby pictures of our uncle and our father.


	4. The Birds and the Bees

“What have you found?” I ask sitting next to Hamish on his bed.

“Not much.” He says looking at documents on his tablet. “There is nothing for Amanda Reynard Augustus. However, I did manage to find something about Charlize Augustus Magnussen.”

“And?”

He brings up the file.

“She owned some newspapers and news stations.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep.”

“They have to be related somehow.”

“There is no other way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We have to risk it Will.”

“Risk what?”

“Asking our parents.”

“And confessing to stealing the information from Uncle Mycroft?”

“Of course not. We just ask for information on our mothers.”

“I don’t want to upset them.”

“They’ll be fine. They had to have known that we would ask eventually.”

“That’s true.”

“Boys! Dinner!” Dad calls.

“Now or never.” Hamish says standing and fixing his shirt.

“Yeah, alright.”

We go down the stairs and wash up.

Gladstone is already eating at his bowl.

Papa is sitting at the desk.

Hamish and I carry the drinks out to the sitting room and place them on the desk where we had our meals.

Dad said the table would never be clean of Papa’s experiments.

Dad brings out the plates laden with food before sitting down.

Hamish and I take out seats.

“Dig in everybody.” Dad says.

Papa turns off the telly before picking up his fork.

“How was the sleepover?” Dad asks.

“Fine.” I say.

“How was having sex without us in the flat?” Hamish asks.

Dad chokes on his mashes potatoes.

I pound his back.

“Fine.” Papa smiles.

“Sherlock.” Dad says. “Hamish. Those are not appropriate questions.”

“Why not? I thought you said you wanted us to have open and honest family discussions?” He asks.

“You did say that John.” Papa says.

“Okay. I did say that but that did not include talking about our intimate relationship with our children.”

“In school they encourage us to talk openly about sex with our parents.” I say taking a bite of my roasted chicken.

“You’re not helping Billy.” Dad tells me.

I shrug.

“See John? It’s fine.” Papa says.

“It is not fine. They are still too young for the sex talk.”

“Well.” Papa says scrunching up his face in thought.

“No. Shut up. They are.” Dad says.

“What is the ‘sex talk’?” Hamish asks.

“When a parent sits down their child and tells them all about the birds and the bees.” I say.

Dad sighs.

“Birds and bees?” Papa asks in confusion.

“Yes. Sexual relationships, changes one might experience with their body. Sexual urges, protection, abstinence.” I say eating.

“How do you know all of this?” Dad asks me.

“I read it.”

“Why?”

“For my mind palace. Papa said to store information that might one day be useful.”

“Why sex?” Dad asks still confused.

“Well. It’s a pretty basic animal instinct and Papa always says how love is a vicious motivator. People commonly misinterpret sexual urges with love.”

“Smart.” Papa tells me.

“Why do they call it ‘birds and bees’?” Hamish asks.

“Pretty obvious.” I tell him.

“I don’t get it either.” Papa says.

“Sherlock.” Dad says.

“What? Let him explain it, he already has the information anyways.”

“Bees are obviously the males.”

“Why?” Hamish asks.

“Because they go around collecting nectar.”

“Oh god!” Dad says.

“And they pollinate. Like males with their sperm.”

Hamish and Papa nod.

“Oh! I get it. And their stinger indicates-”

“Hamish. I think everyone gets the picture.” Dad tells him.

“And birds are females because of the eggs and nesting.” Papa says.

“Exactly.” I tell him.

“See? We learn something every day.” Papa tells Dad.

“This has got to be the most uncomfortable conversation by far.” Dad says.

“We still haven’t talked about body hair and masturbation.” I say.

“Billy!” Dad reprimands.

Hamish and I giggle.

Papa snorts and covers his smile with his napkin.

“I don’t know why I even try.” Dad says stabbing his chicken with his fork.

“While we are on the subject of sex.” Hamish says. “We wanted to know about our mothers.”

Dad and Papa glance at each other.

“Why?” Dad asks.

“It’s important for us to know who gave birth to us.” I say.

Dad and Papa share a silent conversation.

Finally Dad sighs.

“Alright.”

Papa takes out a USB drive from the desk.

“I have compiled information on both your mothers. Look through it and let us know if you need further clarification.” Papa says.

Hamish takes the USB drive.

“Thank you.” I tell them.

Dad squeezes my hand.

**********************

“This is all very fascinating.” Hamish says.

I read over his shoulder.

“Wow. Your mother was….”

“Brilliant.”

“Crazy.”

Hamish and I stare at each other.

I shrug.

It was true.

My laptop beeps with a new message.

I get up and sit at my desk.

I open the message.

“Dear William and Hamish, I don’t know if you solve private cases. My name is Sandra, I am sixteen. My boyfriend’s name is Harry, he is seventeen. My problem is that I think my boyfriend is three people. He has three distinctive mole patterns. Every day the mole on his cheek is in a different place. Please help me figure out how this is possible.” I read.

“Triplets.” Hamish and I say at the same time.

He smiles at me.

“Exactly.”

I open the messenger to answer Sandra.

“Solved it without leaving the flat.” Hamish says distracted.

“Knew there was a reason I kept you around.” I tell him.

He throws a pillow to the back of my head.

“Oh it’s on now.” I say grabbing the pillow and jumping on him.

He screams and tries to wiggle away.


	5. The Desperate Bachelor

I ring the doorbell.

“Oh. Hi kids.” Uncle Phil says opening the door.

“Hi Uncle Phil.” I say.

“Come in, come in. What are you two doing here?” He says giving us a hug.

“You agreed to watch us while Papa and Dad are at a medical convention in Ireland.” Hamish tells him.

“Did I?” He asks scratching his head. “No matter. Just make yourselves at home.”

“Come on Gladstone.” I say tugging on his leash.

He looks at Uncle Phil before trotting into the house.

Hamish sets his suitcase by the sofa.

I set my bag and Gladstone’s down.

“Uh. Tonight is when the EHC gets together. You guys are more than welcome to stay or you can go to your room.”

“EHC?” Hamish asks me.

“Empty Hearse Club.” I tell him.

“Ah.”

Uncle Phil moves to the kitchen.

“What are you making?” I ask.

“I’m just preparing some appetizers.”

“Do you need help?”

“Can you guys just put the cups and plates on the coffee table?”

“Sure.”

I hand my brother the plates and napkins while I take the cups.

“I thought he stopped the Empty Hearse Club after Dad talked to him about the stalking?” Hamish asks me.

“No. He just stopped being a creeper.”

“I was not stalking him.” Uncle Phil tells us.

We both stare at him.

Even Gladstone doesn’t believe him.

“Alright, yes. I was following him around.” He admits.

“And taking pictures.” I say.

“And video.” Hamish adds.

“Uncle Greg almost gave Papa a restraining order against you.”

“Even he thought you were being too stalkerish.”

“And Dad might have shot you.”

“Uncle Mycroft would have talked to you.”

“In an abandoned warehouse.”

“Or the cemetery.”

“He likes to be dramatic.”

“It gets his point across a lot quicker.”

“Alright. I get it.” He says lifting his hands in surrender.

“Good. Cause Hamish and I were starting to get worried about you.”

Hamish nods.

“Aw, you guys.”

“Yep. Who else would give us case files illegally?” I ask.

“Papa?” Hamish says.

Alright.

Yes.

Papa did take evidence from crime scenes and he was notorious for taking pictures of said crime scenes.

Without permission.

“Anyways. Have you found someone yet?” Hamish asks.

I kick his leg.

“No. Not yet.” Uncle Phil says.

“You should let us sign you up on a dating website.” I say.

“Really?”

“Yes. We can weed out all the creeps and the idiots.” Hamish says.

“Unless you’re into that sort of thing.” I tell him.

“That would be great.”

“We can do it tomorrow. We will need a photograph and you’re…” Hamish waves at him.

Uncle Phil looks down at himself.

“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“You look like a grandpa.” I say.

“I do?”

Hamish and I nod.

The doorbell rings.

“Oh crap. Can you guys get that while I change?”

“Sure. Glad to help.” I say.

He nods and hurries to his room.

“Do you think we were too harsh on him?” I ask.

“Nonsense. He’s a big boy, he can handle the truth. After all, he’s worked with Papa for years.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Hamish opens the door.

“Hello. Come in. Uncle Phil will be out shortly.” I say.

The eight members come in.

Five females and three males.

“Hi. Hello. I’m Will and this is my brother Hamish.”

“You are the Watson-Holmes children.”

“Yes.” Hamish says.

“Come sit with us.” One of the females says leading us to the chairs.

“Oh. Uh, I don’t do well with chatter.” Hamish says sitting down.

The group laughs.

Hamish looks at me.

I shrug and shake my head.

“You have a blog like your Dad.” A female tells me.

I nod.

“Yes.”

“So you boys solve mysteries too like Sherlock Holmes and John Watson?”

“Yes. Except we’re not allowed to carry a gun.” I say.

The members laugh.

“We mostly solve the cases Papa deems boring and only if they’re approved by Dad.” I say.

“You boys are so cute. How old are you?”

“I’m seven and Hammy is eight.”

“Seven and eight?! And you solve cases?”

We nod.

“My god.”

“You two must be the smarted kids in all of England.”

“Well.” I say.

Gladstone comes over and lies down between me and Hamish.

“Who is this?”

“This is our dog Gladstone.”

The members fawn over Gladstone who eats up the attention like an attention starved child.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Uncle Phil says coming over. 

He sets the appetizers down on the coffee table.

“Phillip. You didn’t say you knew the Watson-Holmes boys.”

“Well I-”

“Are you boys working on a case right now?”

“Just trying to find Uncle Phil a woman.” Hamish says.

“Or a man.” I say.

Uncle Phil shakes his head.

“So if you know anyone willing and available.”

“Uncle Phil likes-”

“No. It’s fine.” Uncle Phil says interrupting me. “No need to discuss that now. Let’s start the meeting.”

One of the males shushes Uncle Phil.

“So do you guys go on cases with your parents?”

“Not all the time.” I say.

“Dad worries about the danger.”

“And never on a school night.”

“When we’re on summer holiday we get to tag along more often.”

“Yep.”

“So have you boys decided on your profession?”

“Well. Hammy is going to study chemistry and I’m going to study biology. Of course, we’re both going to major in Forensics.”

Uncle Phil nods proudly.

“I know you’re still very young but have you started your own mind palaces?”

“Yes. Mine is Baker Street.” I say.

“Mine is Appledore.”

“Appledore?” The female member asks.

“Yes. Our summer home.” Hamish clarifies.

“Wait. You own Appledore.” She says again.

“Yes.”

“But I thought that belonged to Charlize Magnussen?” 

Uncle Phil clears his throat.

“Did it? I thought she only owned the newspapers and news buildings?” I ask.

“She owned a lot of things.”

“Mostly people.” A male says.

Uncle Phil clears his throat loudly.

Hamish and I look at each other.

There was still a lot more to dig up on our mothers.

*********************

“Okay. Smile.” I say holding up the camera.

“Just don’t show so much teeth.”

“And don’t scrunch up your eyes.”

“Stop fidgeting.”

“Look at the camera.”

“Can you just take the picture? This is starting to get very nerve racking and we haven’t even started yet.” Uncle Phil says.

“Sorry.” I say taking the picture.

“Alright. I’ve already got your profile ready. We just need to upload your photograph.” Hamish says sitting in front of Uncle Phil’s laptop.

I hand my brother the camera.

He uploads the picture onto the website.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Uncle Phil asks.

“Of course. You’ll see. You’ll be having sex in no time.” I tell him.

“That’s nice but I really would like to have a long term relationship.”

“Yes. Of course, we can find you that too.” I say.

“Good. That’s good.”

“There.” Hamish says showing Uncle Phillip his profile.

“This is really good. Really, really good. I can’t believe…this is amazing.” Uncle Phil says sitting in front of his laptop.

“Thank you.” Hamish and I say at the same time.

“Thank you so much boys.”

“Just brows and chat. We’ll be in our room.” I say.

Uncle Phil nods distracted.

“We are so damn good.” Hamish says.

“So freaking good. You know, we should start charging for our services.”

“Oh most definitely.”


	6. The Freckled Blond

“You boys should go and take a walk, you know. Breathe some fresh air.” Dad says looking through the cupboards to make sure we had everything.

“Sure. Why not?” I say.

Hamish sighs loudly.

“Go on Hammy. Some sun might do you good.”

“Whatever.”

Hamish follows me out the door.

Gladstone was sleeping and even if he wasn’t, he really wasn’t the playing type.

“Tag, you’re it!” I say shoving Hamish before running towards the open field encompassing Appledore.

“Oi! You cheater!”

I laugh as I run.

I can hear my brother behind me.

He was getting way too close.

I dodge to the left.

“Ugh!!” He screams.

Don’t look back.

“Come on Hammy. Pump those chicken legs.”

Suddenly I’m shoved onto the ground face first.

“Ha!”

I spit out grass.

“Eww.” I say wiping my mouth.

Hamish gets off of me.

“You’re it.” He says punching my arm.

“This is not appropriate behavior for tag.” I say rolling onto my back.

He laughs breathlessly.

“Suck it up Billy.”

“You are so dead.”

“You have to catch me first.” He says turning and running.

I climb to my feet and run after him.

“Wish I had spidery legs right about now.” I pant.

Hamish laughs.

I chase him around the tree before he makes a break for the house.

“I’m going to get you!” I threaten.

“Hello.” The girl waves as I run pass her.

I stop running.

“Hi.” I pant.

Ten years old, blond hair, green eyes.

Local, been walking for an hour picking wildflowers, liked to make collages.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to trespass. I was just taking a walk.” She says.

“Will!” Hamish yells.

“No harm done.”

She smiles.

“I didn’t know anyone lived in Appledore.”

“You know about this place?”

“Oh yes. Everyone knew Charlize Magnussen.”

“How?”

“Well. When everyone is afraid, it’s pretty hard to miss.”

“Why were they afraid?”

“WILL!”

“Are you….I think he really needs your attention.”

“That’s my brother. He’s fine.”

“Oh.” She says looking in Hamish’s direction.

From her expression I can tell she’s interested in him.

“So you were saying?”

“Yes. Magnussen was a very…powerful person.”

“Do you know what happened to her?”

“Word is that she was murdered.” She whispers.

“Do they know who killed her?”

“I don’t think so. It was all very much kept under wraps.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been calling you. Why are you ignoring me?” Hamish says coming up behind me.

“I was just chatting.”

Hamish frowns at our guest.

I know he’s reading her.

“Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.” I say.

She smiles.

“Amy.”

“Amy. I’m Will and this is Hamish.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Hamish tugs on my arm.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“You can come and walk with us.” I invite.

“No! My brother and I have to go help our father with his bees.” Hamish says tugging on my arm more forcefully.

“Bees?” Amy asks.

“Later!” Hamish waves at her before pulling me along.

“Sorry. Nice meeting you.” I call back.

She waves.

“What the hell was that?”

“She knows this is private property. She’s not supposed to be here. Otherwise what’s the point of leaving the city if we’re just going to be running into people?”

“She looked like she was interested in you.”

“Well I certainly wasn’t interested. Besides, I am way too young for her.”

“By two years.”

“Girls that age want boys who are older.”

“Still.”

“She was hideous.”

“She was not!”

“She had all those spots on her face.”

“They are called freckles.”

“Freckles. More like giant dots.”

I laugh.

“It’s not funny.” I tell him.

He smiles at me.

“You laughed.”

“Still not nice.”

He shrugs.

“She had interesting information to share about your mother.”

“Tell me everything.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to have to wait.”

“Why?” He frowns.

“Because you’re it!” I say punching his arm.

“Will!” He shouts after me.

**********************

“Papa. Dad says it’s time for lunch.” I say walking closer to him.

He’s staring at his bees.

“Bees are amazing creatures.”

I duck as one whizzes past my head.

I didn’t know if I was allergic to a bee sting and I really didn’t want to find out now.

“Papa?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you know Hamish’s mother well?”

He looks at me.

“I knew enough.”

“Is it true she was killed?”

“She was.”

“By whom?”

He bites his lip.

“Not important.”

“You said I could I ask if I had questions.”

“Yes. But you don’t need to know.”

“Was she someone really important? Is that why it’s all been covered up?”

“I suppose you could look at it that way.”

“She wasn’t a good person was she?”

He stares at me.

“No.”

“So why did you have a child with her?”

“It was…a rash decision. One I do not regret.”

“No. I know.” I smile. “I just wanted to know. Not knowing just seems wrong. Especially for Hammy.”

He turns to face me fully.

“I am glad you and your brother have such a good relationship.”

“Just like you and Uncle Mycroft.”

“Mycroft and I don’t have a good relationship.” He frowns.

“Of course you do. You guys play games to help each other expand your knowledge, you visit each other frequently and you look out for each other. Just like me and Hammy. Of course, Hammy and I share a room so we kind of have to see each other every day.”

His mouth quirks to one side.

“You are very extraordinary.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He says kissing my forehead. “Now come on, John doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

He leads back to the house.


	7. The Valley of Fear

“Papa.” Hamish whines.

“Don’t look at me. I have nothing to do with this arrangement.”

“Will you two stop?” Dad says. “It is Christmas and we are spending it together as a family.”

“But the cottage! With Gran and Gramps!” Hamish says.

“Yes.” Dad says.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” I say.

“See? You two should follow Billy’s example.”

“They are really old and we never know when they might die. It’s good to spend as much time with them as we can.” I say packing Gladstone’s Christmas sweater that Nana had knitted for him last year.

Dad glares at me.

Papa snorts a laugh.

“Knock, knock.” Uncle Greg says walking into the sitting room.

“Oh good. The car is here.” Papa says sarcastically.

“Merry Christmas.” Uncle Greg smiles.

“Christmas isn’t for another two days. And it sure as hell won’t be Merry.” Hamish says brushing past Uncle Greg and going down the stairs.

“Well. Someone’s in the Christmas spirit.” Uncle Greg says.

“Ignore him. He’s in a real snit.” Dad says hugging Uncle Greg.

“Billy.” Uncle Greg says pulling me into a one armed hug.

“Hi Uncle Greg. I’m just going to carry my bags down.”

He nods.

Hamish was already sitting in the car, a pout on his face.

I go help Nana with her suitcase.

“Oh thank you love.” She tells me.

I help her into the car before going back up to the flat for Gladstone.

I lead him into the car.

“Morning.” I tell Uncle Mycroft.

“Good morning.” He says with a nod.

I sit next to Hammy.

He reclines his head against my shoulder.

Our parents and Uncle Greg follow shortly.

Soon we’re off.

Everything was so quiet.

“I didn’t know you two were coming.” I tell my Uncles.

“Of course we were. Why would you think that?” Uncle Greg asks.

“Well. It’s going to be your anniversary in two days. I don’t know. I thought you might want to spend that time alone.”

“No. It’s fine.” Uncle Greg says wrapping his hand around Uncle Mycroft’s.

“Yes. Nothing better than being with family this holiday season.” Uncle Mycroft says sarcastically.

At least he sounded sarcastic.

“Really? There’s not going to be a lot of privacy at the cottage. Don’t you still have sex?”

Hamish giggles into my arm.

“I know neither of you is a Spring chicken anymore but there are books and aids that can help you regain your sexual life.”

“William.” Dad says.

Nana laughs.

“Oh, sorry.” She says covering her mouth.

Uncle Mycroft glares while Uncle Greg blushes.

“We’re all so eager to hear the answer to that.” Papa says.

I know he was being sarcastic.

“Well. If there was any doubt before as to whether he was your son, he has certainly dispelled that notion.” Uncle Mycroft says with a thin smile.

Papa looks oddly proud.

“Thank you.” I say.

“It wasn’t a compliment.” Uncle Mycroft informs me.

“I thought it was. You just confirmed I am the son of the most brilliant man in the whole Western world.”

Papa snorts and laughs quietly.

Dad shushes him.

Nana looks happy.

Uncle Mycroft clears his throat.

“I hear the boys are doing fairly well in school. Have you at all changed your minds about putting William in a private school?” He asks.

“Billy likes interacting with others. I think public school is where he should stay.” Dad says.

“I want to go to public school too.” Hammy says.

“Really?” Papa asks.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because my school is boring and full of idiots.”

“Well, we have to discuss-” Dad begins.

“It’s fine. I’ve been to Will’s school. I’m not saying it can’t do with improvement but I liked what I saw. Besides, I would be with Will and he can distract me if it all becomes too much.”

“When exactly were you at your brother’s school?” Dad asks.

Oh shit.

Hamish doesn’t answer.

“Hamish Augustus Watson-Holmes.” Dad says.

This was going to be a long drive.

***********************

“Look at this.” Hamish says handing me the morning paper.

“What?”

“The paragraph there at the bottom left hand corner.”

“The ‘Murder in The Valley’ column?”

“Yes. Now read it.”

“Wait. Isn’t this something we should be bringing to Papa?”

“He’s too busy trying to win at the deduction game with Uncle Mycroft. Best not to bother him.”

“Might be right.”

“Of course. Now read it.”

I read the column.

Sixteen year old man accused of killing his father down by the pond.

“Hmm.”

“What?” He asks.

“From what I’m reading it sure sounds like he did it.”

“Yes. I know. That’s the best part.”

“So if he’s guilty then why are you so excited about it?”

“Read between the lines Will.”

“There are witnesses who claim to have seen the boy, well a man now really, walking after his father with a shot gun under his arm. Father was later found in the exact spot where witnesses describe seeing father and son arguing. Father had been beaten over the head with a blunt object. The shot gun?”

“If he had killed his father then why would he then go for help and leave the supposed murder weapon lying next to the body?”

“Because he’s stupid.”

He stares at me.

“Alright. Yes, I agree. It’s not very smart even for a first time killer.”

“Exactly.”

“But how can he be proved innocent when there are so many things stacked against him?”

“That is what you and I are going to investigate.”

“It’s Christmas.”

“Yes I know.” He smiles and claps his hands before looking at me. “Oh, you mean real Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The case Hamish and William are going to go investigate is from Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories Volume I called ‘The Boscombe Valley Mystery’.


	8. The Problem

“Hey Gramps.” I say.

“I need to speak with both of you. Please come to my office.” He says.

Hammy and I look at each other.

“Okay.” I say.

Hamish and I follow him to his office.

He closes the door and motions for us to sit in the chairs in front of his desk.

He goes around and sits behind his desk.

He clasps his hands together and looks down at them before looking at us.

“Congratulations on solving that murder mystery by the way. That was very clever. Though I don’t think Greg or Sherlock are too happy with you boys at the moment.” He smiles.

“Yeah. No one likes to work on Christmas.” I say.

“Well.” Hamish disagrees.

Gramps chuckles.

“Greg might be upset about working on Christmas but I don’t think that’s what your Papa is upset about.”

“Makes sense.” I tell him.

He nods.

“That’s not what I called you in here for though. I am afraid this is of a much more delicate matter.”

Hamish and I sit forward in interest.

“I am concerned about your safety.”

“Our safety.” I repeat.

“Yes. I am sure you’ve read your Dad’s blog. You know what happened with Moriarty and Moran. With Adler and basically everyone intent on living the life of a criminal. Since you boys seem inclined to follow the family business, I would prefer if you took safety training. It would make me feel better knowing you boys knew how to defend yourselves.”

“I’m already taking martial arts.” Hammy says.

“Yes. I know. But I was thinking on a larger scale.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“I want you boys to be trained the way agents are trained.”

“Agents? You want us to be trained killers?”

“No. I just want you to know how to defend yourselves properly and how to deal with people seeking to do you harm. I will not have my grandchildren running around London unprotected. I know that legally you cannot carry firearms and let’s face it, your parent’s would be very angry with me. But you can still be taught to disarm your opponent and to avoid being harmed.”

“Wow.” I say. 

“I received my training much later in life and boy did I wish I had had that knowledge much sooner.”

“Did Papa and Uncle Mycroft ever receive professional training?” I ask.

“They did. But again, it wasn’t until they were in their teen years. Your Grams didn’t want them to use their knowledge to hurt others. I didn’t agree with her and I know it would have saved your father and uncle a lot of grief if they could have shown those bullies their place. But you know your Grams. She always gets her way.”

“Have you talked to Dad and Papa about this?”

“No. I know they will try to protect you boys. So I wanted to run this by you first and see how you feel. If you agree then we can convince them together.”

“Wow Gramps. You’re kind of sneaky.” Hammy tells him.

Gramps chuckles.

“Yes. Well. Learning to read people is step one, knowing how to use that knowledge is the final goal.”

Speaking of which.

“Gramps. You still kind of run the British Government right?” I ask.

He chuckles.

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“We have questions.” Hammy says.

“It’s to do with your mothers.” He says sitting back.

“Yeah.” I say.

“Not getting the answers you want.”

“No.” I say shaking my head.

He sighs.

“We want to know how they were related. I mean, they had to be.” Hammy says.

“And if you could tell us what happened.” I say.

“You know I cannot give you any documentation or physical proof. Your parent’s would eventually find it. Besides, to the public all documents regarding Charlize Augustus Magnussen and Amanda Grace Reynard Augustus has been destroyed or at least wiped off the public records.”

Hammy and I nod.

“I need you to understand that what I say cannot be repeated to anyone other than those present at this cottage.”

“Yes, we understand.” Hammy says.

I nod in agreement.

“Amanda Grace Reynard was an agent placed in the MI-7 division. She was very intelligent, very quick. She worked with us for five years before she went her own way. It was not by choice that we let her leave, she was a trained agent. A killer essentially. People like that are always dangerous when left to their own devices. But she married Charles Augustus, a man of power and wealth. He belonged to a very prestigious family and so we could not move against her without getting involved in a battle with a prominent family. So we let her go. She left with her husband shorty after and dropped from our radar. At least until her husband was killed. We believe that Amanda wanted information from Charles and once she obtained it, she got rid of him and her own identity.”

Hammy and I were literally on the edge of our seats.

“We knew she was doing other work but never here in England. Not until she came back in 2012. By then Charlize Augustus Magnussen had taken over her family business. The Augustus family had kept records, something Amanda had overlooked in her eagerness for whatever information she had been seeking from Charles. But Magnussen, Magnussen was brilliant. She expanded that information and obtained a detailed account of Amanda’s life, her work. Magnussen was a blackmailer by trade. Something she was very good at. Amanda somehow got wind that Magnussen had her life saved in a flash drive and was willing to sell it to the highest bidder. Killers always make enemies, it put Amanda in a very precarious position.”

“Amanda killed Charlize.” Hamish says.

Gramps nods.

“I don’t know why she set her eyes on John though.”

I gape at him.

What?

“John had nothing to do with Magnussen. He didn’t even know of her existence, not until after Sherlock came back from the dead. Amanda had been living as Mary Morstan, an identity she had stolen. She was here at this house a year before your parent’s got together, before Hamish was born.”

“And she didn’t recognize you?” I ask.

“No. We had never met face to face before.”

“Why was she here?” I ask.

“Because John brought her along, he proposed.”

Hammy and I glance at each other.

Boy had our parents been keeping secrets from us.

“And then Sherlock agreed to have a child with Magnussen. Of course it took a while but eventually your parents realized they were in love with each other. Then Hamish was born and delivered to Sherlock along with the flash drive.”

“Flash drive? With Amanda’s life story?” Hamish asks.

“Yes.”

“Why did Magnussen do that?” I ask.

“It was all a game. And Magnussen had played her secret card. Amanda didn’t know Magnussen would just give her information away and especially not to Sherlock. But as I said, Magnussen was nothing short of brilliant. By delivering Amanda to Sherlock, she ensured that Amanda would also be delivered to Mycroft. And in doing so, she had brought down her enemy.”

“A game? It was all a game! My mother is dead but at least she beat her enemy at her own game!” Hamish shouts.

He stands and paces.

My eyes sting with tears.

Thank you mother for ruining my brother’s life.

“That is not why your mother is dead Hamish.” Gramps says.

Hammy and I look at Gramps.

“You boys know all about mind palaces don’t you?”

We nod.

“What is the second rule of a mind palace?”

“Store information.” I say.

“Not just any information.” Gramps says.

“Something that will be useful later.” Hammy says.

Gramps nods.

“Surely you’ve realized by now that your mother was no ordinary woman. She kept all the information she acquired in her vaults. At least that’s what she called her mind palace.”

Vaults.

“If a person has valuable information that cannot be taken because it does not exist physically, how then might one remove that information?”

“Death.” I say.

“Exactly. Amanda killed Magnussen in order to ensure that her life remained hidden.”

“But the flash drive.” Hammy says.

“Yes. Amanda was very good at her job but she was never smart. At least no more than the average person. She could never see. You played a very important part too Hamish.”

“Me?” Hammy asks sitting down.

“Yes. What do you think your Papa did when Mycroft delivered you to 221B?”

“He would have questions.” He says.

“Yes. Especially since Magnussen made a point in specifying that she did not want your Papa to have any contact with you.”

“So Papa went looking for Magnussen.” I say.

“Yes. And found Amanda.”

“My mother must have known.”

“Yes. Her reasons for allowing herself to be killed we will never know.”

Hamish shakes her head.

“Amanda was arrested and she is currently serving out her twenty year sentence.”

I frown at my Gramps.

“But what about me?”

“You were a surprise. I don’t think anyone expected you, especially not your mother.” Gramps smiles. “You know the kind of man your Dad is. He wasn’t going to let you be taken away.”

“Does she know about me?”

“She knows you still live. But no information was ever given and she has never asked.”

I nod.

Good.

“Thank you Grandpa.” Hamish says before standing and leaving.

We sit in silence for a moment.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you boys this at Christmas.”

I snort a laugh.

“Maybe.”

“I am sure your brother would appreciate your company.”

I nod and stand.

“Thank you Gramps for being honest. At least now we’ve resolved this dilemma of ours.”

He nods.

I leave his office.

“There you are.” Dad says. “What were you doing?”

“We were just chatting with Gramps.”

“That’s nice. Dinner will be ready in fifteen.”

“I’ll go let Hammy know.”

“I think I saw him round back.” Grams says.

“Thank you.”

I walk out and walk around towards the back.

He was reclining against the cottage.

His eyes were closed.

I stand next to him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Our mothers were just…idiots.”

“Insane.” I say at the same time.

He chuckles.

“That too.”

“Still. I feel like I should apologize.”

“My mother was not a nice person and I know that eventually someone would have come looking to kill her. Your mom just got there first.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I guess one good thing to come out of this is that we have a family. We have each other.” He says taking my hand.

I squeeze his fingers.

“That’s true.”

“Of course it is, I’m always right.”

I roll my eyes.

I let go of his hand.

“Come on them Mr. Almost Always Right.” I walking back towards the front.

“I said I’m always right.” He says following.

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

“Will, it’s Christmas! You have to let me think I’m always right.”

I snort.

“Not going to happen.”


	9. At the Stroke of Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Underage drinking.

“Now. I’ve left the number on the fridge. Call if there is an emergency. Your Nana is just down the stairs if you need anything.”

“Come along John, don’t want to be late.” Papa says wrapping his scarf around his neck.

“Yes Dad. We get it. We’re not children.” Hamish says.

Technically we were.

“Alright.” Dad says nodding to himself before kissing us.

I pat his back.

“Now behave yourselves. We should be back by two. I left some juice in the cupboard in case you want some.”

“Have fun.” I say leading them out the door.

I close the door to the sitting room.

“Thank god. I never thought they’d leave.” Hammy says swooning on the couch.

“I’ll make the popcorn, you put the movie in the DVD player.”

Dad and Papa were off to the New Year’s party at the station.

No children allowed so Hamish and I had to stay behind.

Dad hadn’t been comfortable leaving us behind but Nana and Papa had managed to convince him in the end.

Hammy and I were going to stay up late watching movies and eating junk food.

“Which one was it again?” Hammy asks.

“Watch the popcorn while I put it in.”

He hands me the DVD’s before going into the kitchen.

“And pour some juice!”

“Alright.”

I pop in the first ‘Bourne’ movie before going up to the room and bringing down the candy I had stashed there. 

I pop a piece of chocolate in my mouth.

Chocolate was the best.

Hamish hands me my glass of juice before sitting on the couch next to me.

“Cheers.” I say.

He clinks his glass against mine.

I take a sip.

“Ugh. Are you sure this is the juice? It tastes kind of weird.” I say looking into my glass.

“Yes. It was right where Dad said he left it. I think it tastes like apple. Maybe it’s cause you were eating chocolate.”

“Maybe.” I say taking another sip.

I start the movie and sit back.

We get fifteen minutes into the movie before Hammy and I start giggling.

For some reason things just started being humorous.

I was feeling a bit lightheaded too.

“Damn this juice is good.” Hammy says draining his glass.

He gets up but falls back onto the couch.

I laugh.

“You’re so stupid.” I giggle.

“Shut up.” He giggles back.

He falls to the floor and crawls to the kitchen.

I fall on my side on the couch clutching at my stomach.

“Ow, ow.” I say between laughter.

Hamish comes back with the bottle.

He refills both our glasses.

“Bottom’s up.” He says clinking his glass against mine, sloshing his drink over his hand.

He laughs.

I gulp down my juice.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

Hammy gave up his fight against gravity and just stayed on the floor on his back.

Gladstone stares at us disapprovingly from under the desk.

“Don’t you judge me. You’re a dog who licks his ass.” I tell him.

He snorts before closing his eyes.

“Ass licker.” Hamish giggles.

“Let’s play a game!” I say turning off the telly.

“What kind of game?” He ask sitting up.

“A guessing game. We each write a name on a piece of paper and we have to guess who each other is. Only yes or no answers are valid, no in-between. And if I guess wrong then it’s your turn.” 

“Alright.” He hiccups.

I try to get up and go to the desk for a pen and paper but I’m having trouble getting my legs to cooperate.

I crawl to the desk.

I grab some post-it notes and a pencil.

“Here.” I say handing Hamish the pad and paper after I’ve written down the name.

“Alright, alright.” He says.  
He writes down a name.

“Now what?”

“Put it on my forehead.”

He smacks the paper onto my forehead.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.”

I put my piece of paper on his forehead.

“Let’s get off the floor. My ass is getting numb.” I say.

“Mine too.”

Hamish grabs the bottle and I take our glasses.

We crawl to Dad’s and Papa’s chair.

“How do we decide who goes first?” Hamish asks crawling into Papa’s chair.

“Rock, scissors, paper. Or paper, rock, scissor. I forget the order.”

“Alright. I’m rock.”

“Good. I win.”

“How do you win?”

“Because I’m paper.”

“Cheater.”

“Sore loser.”

“Fine. Go ahead.” He says refilling our glasses.

“Am I a vegetable?”

“You or the…?” He asks pointing at my head.

Gladstone passes gas.

Hamish and I giggle.

“Funny.” I tell my brother.

“Thank you.” He says nodding his head like a bobble head.

“Come on.”

“No, you’re not a vegetable.”

“It’s your go.” I say sitting back.

I take another sip of my juice.

“Uh…am I human?”

“Sometimes.”

“Can’t have sometimes. It has to be um…”

“Yes, you’re human.”

“Am I a man?”

“Yep.”

“Tall?”

“Not as tall as you think.”

“Hmm. Nice?”

“Ish.”

“Clever?”

“I think so.”

“You would.”

I kick his leg.

“Am I important?”

“To some people.”

“Do ‘people’ like me?”

“Not all the time. You tend to rub them the wrong way.”

“You’re…you’re nasty.” He giggles.

“Me? You’re the one thinking dirty thoughts.”

“Dirty. Wait. Am I the current king of England?”

“No.”

“Your go.”

I lean forward quickly.

Too quickly that I end up falling on my knees on the floor with my head almost in my brothers lap.

“Incest! Incest!” He laughs.

“Hey, I don’t mind.” I say leaning back.

He giggles, his face blushing.

He shoves me back into the chair with his foot.

“Am I a woman?” I ask.

He snorts a laugh.

“What?”

“Yes.” He says giggling.

“Am I pretty?”

“Beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood impressions, influences and role models.”

“Yeah but am I a pretty lady?”

He peers at my forehead.

“I don’t know who you are. I don’t know who you’re supposed to be.”

“You picked the name!”

“I’ve heard that name before I just don’t remember who it belongs to.”

“You’re not really getting the hang of this name game, are you, Ham?” I say falling back into the chair.

“So I am human, not as tall as I think I am. I’m…I’m nice-ish. Clever. Important to some people. But I tend to rub them the wrong way.” He laughs. “Got it.”

“Go on then.”

“I’m you aren’t I?”

“What?” I laugh.

There is a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Hamish shouts.

“Sorry. The door was unlocked.” The young female says walking into the sitting room.

“Hello.” Hamish and I say at the same time.

“Is one of you Hamish Holmes?”

I smack my brother on the forehead over his name.

“You bastard!” He yells.

“Shh! Don’t be rude, we have a client.” I say forcing myself to my feet. “If you could grab that chair and bring it over by the couch.” I tell her.

“Oh, okay.” She says.

Ham and I help each other to the couch.

“So. Tell us what you want.” Ham says.

“Rude.” I tell him again.

He waves his hand and I duck before it can hit me.

I mostly drift in and out of the introductions.

I narrow my eyes as I peer at our guest.

She was really blurry.

“You might want to get that checked.” I tell her.

I hiccup.

“I mean, I don’t date much. At least I don’t think so. And my parents would kill me if I they knew how many boyfriends I’ve had.” She laughs.

“I do love a good murder.” Hamish says.

“Yep.” I agree.

“Anyways. I had just broken up with my previous boyfriend and I just wasn’t ready to get out there again, you know. So I just started looking around on-line and I found this guy in this chat room. He seemed nice, you know? We seemed to automatically connect.”

I smile at her.

“So then last week he asked if I would be willing to meet him face to face. And well, I really did like him so I agreed. We had dinner. Such interesting conversation, it was lovely.”

I giggle.

“To be honest, I would have loved to have gone further but I thought ‘no this is special, let’s take it slowly. Exchange numbers’.”

Every time I blinked it was harder to open my eyes.

Hamish sits forward.

“He said he’d get in touch and then…maybe he wasn’t quite as keen as I was?”

I shrug.

Who the hell knew?

“I just thought that at least he’d call to say we were finished.” She whimpers.

Hamish scrunches up his face like he’s going to cry.

I snort.

His face was funny.

“I went back into the chat room but there was no trace of him. I tried to get in touch but his number had been disconnected. So I went round to his flat and the landlord told me it had been vacant for months. The boy I went on a date with had died and there we were having dinner one month on. Mr. Holmes….”

My eyes close.

Maybe I can rest them for a moment.

“With a ghost, Mr. Holmes!”

I shift on the couch.

“Boring, boring. No. Fascinating.” I hear Ham mumble.

My eyes were still too heavy.

“Will, Will, wake up.” Ham says pushing me.

I slap his hand away and blink my eyes open.

“Apologies about my, you know…rude, rude!” Ham says wagging his finger in my face.

I snap my teeth at it.

“I checked with the landlord and he is willing to let you check the flat for any clues.” She says eagerly.

I shut my eyes again.

“Don’t worry! I’ll find him in ten minutes.” Ham says.

“We can go to the flat right now.” The girl says.

I smile to myself.

“Yeah, I’ll go with you if you want.” I mutter.

Seven and already getting propositioned to.

“What’s your dog’s name?” Ham asks.

I breathe deeply.

“Will, wake up.” Ham says shoving me.

I catch myself before I fall sideways on the couch.

I look at my brother standing over me.

“What?” I ask wiping my mouth.

“You…the game is something.” He says waiving his hand and stumbling away.

Wait.

I knew this one.

“On.” I say.

The girl gasps.

“Yeah that, that.” He says.

The female smiles at me.

I wink back.

I put on my shoes and follow her and Hamish down the stairs.

Gladstone starts barking at us.

“Shh!” I tell him before closing the sitting room door so he won’t come tumbling down the stairs.

I put a hand on the wall and the other on the railing.

I stumble and slide down the stairs.

“Taxi!” Ham says once we reach the street.

I burp loudly.

“Sorry.” I say. “Fuck its cold!”

Maybe we should have grabbed our coats.

The cab ride was mostly a blur.

Ham shivers against me.

I might have fallen asleep at one point.

“Here we are.” The girl says.

We stumble out of the cab and into the building.

The landlord opens the flat for us.

I follow Ham in.

“Oh, it’s nice.” I say walking in.

“Hmm.” Ham says letting himself flop on the couch.

I hold on to a post in the middle of the flat.

Was that even supposed to be there?

“Nice place.” I tell the landlord.

He looks blurry and upset.

“You need to get that checked too.”

He stares back at me.

“You have the stupidest look on your face right now.” I giggle.

I recline my back against the post and look at Ham.

He’s stumbling around the flat.

“See anything?” The girl asks.

“Hmm?” Ham calls back.

I look up at the ceiling. 

Wow.

This flat was really tall.

“Any clues Mr. Holmes?”

I close my eyes and stand perfectly vertical with the post.

“Oh, err…”

I can hear Ham moving around.

I shake my head and blink my eyes open.

I turn to look at him.

“I’m just going to whip this out.” He says pointing at his trousers.

I snort.

He twirls around trying to take our tool kit out of his pocket.

I stare at the wall.

What color was that?

I close my eyes.

Someone pokes my shoulder.

I open my eyes.

The girl looks at me.

“You all right?” She smiles.

“Hmm?” I look down at my brother who is on the carpet. “Yeah, he’s clueing.”

“What?”

“He’s…hmm? He’s clueing for looks.” I tell her.

God.

People were really stupid sometimes.

We both stare down at Ham who is on his hands and knees on the carpet.

I close my eyes.

“Mr. Holmes?”

I open my eyes again and stand up straight.

I frown down at my brother.

Why was his ass up in the air like that?

“Mr. Holmes?”

“I’m calling the police.” The man says.

I look at him.

Why was he even here?

We didn’t invite him to our New Year’s party.

The girl could stay but the guy had to go.

My brother starts snoring.

I was really sleepy too for some reason.

“Oh, no.” The girls says.

The man goes over and pulls my brother up to his knees.

“Hey.” I tell him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Ham yells.

“These are private detectives. It’s Hamish Watson-Holmes and his brother William Watson-Holmes.” The girl explains.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ham asks the man. “Don’t compromise the integrity of the…”

He leans over and pukes.

Wait.

I knew this one too.

“Crime scene!”

I lift my hand to high five the girl but she ignores me.

Sour puss.

Ham sits back up.

“Yeah. That.” He says wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

**********************

I groan.

Oh god my head.

I put a hand to my forehead.

I blink my eyes open.

“Wakey, wakey!” 

“Oh, my God.” I say looking at the cell we were in.

How the hell did we even get here?

Hammy was asleep on the bench.

“Uncle Greg? Is that Uncle Greg?”

I look at him standing at the open cell door.

“Get up, your parents are waiting to yell at you and I can’t wait.” He smiles.

I look down.

Oh god.

I stumble onto my feet.

“Managed to square things with the desk sergeant.” Uncle Greg laughs.

“Can you whisper?” I ask him.

“Not really!” He shouts.

Hammy sits up with a gasp.

Wow.

Uncle Greg was being a real jerk right now.

I really didn’t expect that from him.

I kind of liked it.

I walk past him.

“Come on.” He tells Hammy before following me.

“What in the hell do you think you were doing?!” Dad yells.

My head feels like it was being stabbed with an icepick.

I groan.

Papa doesn’t say anything.

He just stands there in his coat and scarf, his arms crossed over his chest and a look of disappointment on his face.

“We didn’t do it on purpose.” I say.

“How in the hell do the two of you get drunk off your asses without even knowing?” Dad shouts.

“John.” Papa says.

Dad takes a deep breath.

“We thought we were drinking juice.” I say.

“Juice.” Dad says disbelievingly.

“It’s my fault.” Hammy says. “I was the one who served our drinks. I saw the bottle was labeled ‘apple’ and I just didn’t bother reading the rest of it.”

“You saw the bottle said ‘apple’ and you just assumed it was juice.” Dad repeats.

“That’s what I said.” Hammy frowns.

“Don’t you get smart with me young man. Anything could have happened to you. What the hell were you thinking leaving the flat in the middle of the night?”

“It sounded like an interesting case.” I shrug.

Dad presses his lips together angrily and I look away.

“Come on. Let’s go home.” Papa says turning and walking away.

“Papa.” I say.

He ignores me.

I glance at Hamish.

“I don’t even know where to start. When we get home the two of you will go up to your room and stay there until I say otherwise.” Dad says before following after Papa.

Hamish and I follow behind at a slower pace.

“Well, that’s one New Year’s we will never forget.” I tell my brother.

“It was awful.”

“Yes, yes it was.”

“Oh.” He groans grabbing his head.

I still felt like I was going to be sick to my stomach.

“That girl Tessa. The one that goes to my school.”

“What?”

“Dated a ghost, most interesting case for months. What a wasted opportunity.”

“Okay.” I say putting a hand on my stomach.

“How long are you two grounded for?” Uncle Greg asks meeting us at the exit.

“Long enough probably.” Hammy tells him.

Oh god.

I lean over and throw up.

Unfortunately it was on Uncle Greg’s shoes.

“Sorry.” I cough.

Hammy snort before clutching at his head and groaning.

“I should have seen that coming.” Uncle Greg says staring down at his soiled shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely loved the ‘stag night’ scene from Season 3 Ep. 2 and since I didn’t use it in the previous story, I wanted to use it here. What the boys got drunk on was apple cider, Trillsabells informed me that apple cider in England is extremely alcoholic. And yes, in this story there is now a King of England (Prince Charles finally got his chance). Nothing against the Queen but she’s not an immortal, at least I don’t think so.


	10. The Woman with the Twisted Lip

“Greg told me what happened.” Auntie Molly says with a grimace. 

“Yeah.” I nod.

“Are your parents still angry?”

“We have to be here don’t we? We only ever come when we are being punished.” Hamish says.

I kick his leg.

Auntie smiles.

“They’ll get over it.” I tell her.

She nods.

“I am glad you boys only suffered a hangover. It could have been a lot worse.”

I nod.

“So. What kind of bodies do you have in here?” Hammy asks opening the drawers.

“Uhm. Your parents told me not to let you look at any bodies. It’s part of your punishment.” She says closing the drawer.

I touch her hand.

“Please Auntie Molly?” I smile, making sure to make my eyes wider.

“It’ll be our secret.” Hammy says giving her his hopeful face.

I can tell she’s wavering.

I squeeze her hand.

“Alright.” She smiles.

Hamish and I high five each other behind her back.

“This one just came in this morning.” She says pulling out the drawer. “No identification.”

Hamish and I look down at the body.

Female, blond hair, in her late fifties.

“Why is her lip curled like that?” I ask.

“I haven’t performed the autopsy yet. But my guess is that she suffered a stroke.”

“No.” Hamish says.

“She was involved in a car accident.” I say.

“Yes.” Auntie Molly says. “How did you know?”

I point to her head.

“A contusion of that size and that pattern can only be obtained by hitting the steering wheel with extreme force. I’ve studied the formation of bruises at great length. I’ve helped Papa compile photographs and information. Blood splatter he had, bruises not so much.” I say putting on some latex gloves.

I move the woman’s face to the right so that I can get a better look at the bruising.

“My theory is that she died from blunt force trauma to the head.” Hamish says circling the body.

“But her face.” Auntie Molly says.

Wait.

This woman looked familiar

“Muscle stiffness.” Hamish tells her.

“Oh.” Auntie says staring down at the woman.

Where had I seen her?

I close my eyes and go into my mind palace.

Where?

I walk down my version of Baker Street.

Not at the Scotland Yard or the cottage. 

Not at Uncle Mike and Greg’s Estate.

Not with Uncle Phil or St. Bart’s.

Not in Angelo’s or Appledore.

It had to be at 221B.

Something to do with Dad.

I run into the flat.

Okay.

Dad.

I imagine Dad sitting in his chair.

I stare at him.

“Narrow it down.” Papa says coming up behind me.

I press my hands together, my fingertips touching my chin.

“Focus.”

Okay.

I take a deep breath.

“What did you see?”

“Female, late fifties, blond hair.”

“No. I am not asking for your superficial observations. What did you see?”

“Similarities.”

“Good. What kind of similarities?”

“Nose, mouth, facial similarities.”

“Yes. What else?”

“Height, body structure.”

“Very good. Now compile it together.”

“Female that shares similarities with Dad.”

“Meaning?”

“She has to be a part of his immediate family.”

“Yes?”

“Not a cousin, more likely a sister. Too young to be his mother.”

Wait.

“Very good.” Papa says.

The old phone.

The photograph he kept hidden in his nightstand.

“Harry Watson.” I say opening my eyes.

“What?” Auntie gasps.

“Harriet Watson?” Hamish asks.

“Has to be.”

“I’ll call Uncle Phil.” Hamish says dialing the number.

“Wait. That’s my phone.” Auntie says.

“Yes.” Hamish says holding it up to his ear. “Now be quiet.”

I frown at him.

“Please.” He adds. “Uncle Phil, it’s Hamish. I need you to come down to St. Bart’s and take some fingerprints.”

**************************

I walk into the kitchen where Dad was preparing dinner.

“Dad?”

Hamish shuffles into the kitchen behind me.

Papa looks at us from his place at the desk.

“Yes, what is it William?”

Still using my full name.

“I know you’re still pretty upset about what happened two days ago but I really need to talk with you.”

He turns to look at me.

“Have a seat.” Hamish tells him.

“Why?” Dad asks.

“Trust me, you’ll thank us.” Hamish says. “Just sit down.”

Papa comes to stand at the doorway.

“Okay.” Dad says sitting down.

I take his hand in mine.

He frowns at me.

“Dad. I’m very sorry.”

“Uh.”

“Who is it?” Papa asks.

“Harriet.” I say looking at him.

He looks at Dad.

“Harry? Wait. What happened to Harry?”

“She’s….uh, passed on.”

“Passed….” He purses his lip and looks away.

“Sorry Dad.” Hamish says.

“I just…are you sure?” He asks.

“We had Uncle Phil do a fingerprint comparison.” Hammy says.

“But I think it would be best if you went and identified her. Auntie Molly promised to wait to perform the autopsy.”

“Though you should prepare yourself. She suffered some muscle stiffness at death, so.” Hammy says.

“Muscle stiffness?” Dad asks.

“Yeah. Her upper lip kind of curled the way it would on a stroke victim.” I say.

Dad stands and squares his shoulders.

“Well. Alright.” He says nodding.

“John.” Papa says.

“I have to Sherlock. Please just stay here with the boys.”

“I can’t let you go on your own.”

“I’ll be fine. Might need some time to myself.” Dad says grabbing his coat.

“Call me.” Papa says.

Dad nods and kisses his cheek before leaving.

Papa walks to the window and watches Dad.

He paces back and forth in front of the window.

Hamish and I look at each other.

“Papa?”

“What?”

“We can go and stay with Nana. I think it’s best if you go after Dad.”

He turns to look at us.

“Promise we won’t take any of her herbal soothers.” Hamish says.

I glare at my brother.

“What?” He whispers.

“Timing.” I whisper back.

Papa smiles softly at us and nods.

“Alright. I don’t think John should be on his own.”

I grab Gladstone and lead him down the stairs.

I walk into Nana’s flat.

“Hi Nana.”

“Oh Billy. What happened dear?”

“It’s Dad. His sister died. Papa is going to go with him to the morgue.”

“Oh dear. Is John alright?”

“I don’t know.”

Papa walks in, Hamish following behind.

“Sherlock.” Nana says walking towards him. “Don’t tell me you let John go on ahead by himself. You know how that boy is.”

“Yes. I know. I’m going to go meet him. I need you to watch the boys.”

“Of course. Give my best to John. Anything you need, I am right here.”

“Thank you.” Papa says kissing her cheek.

“Go on and take care of John. Don’t worry about the kids.”

Papa nods.

“I’ll call.” Papa says.

He gives us a hug.

“Take care of your Nana.”

We nod.

He walks out.

Nana shakes her head.

“That poor boy.”

“Yeah.” I agree.

“He certainly didn’t have a good relationship with her. I mean, we never met her.” Hammy says sitting on the couch.

Gladstone sits next him.

“Yes. Well. She was an alcoholic.” Nana whispers.

“Hmm.”

“They had a big falling out years ago. Harry was involved in a car accident.”

“Really? That’s how she died.” I say.

“Oh that Harry.” Nana says shaking her head.

“Dad looked really upset.” I say.

“Of course. John is such a good person.”

“Yeah. I feel really bad for making him angry.”

“Yes. I heard you boys had yourselves a real adventure on New Year’s.”

“It was an accident.” Hammy tells her.

“Well I hope you learned your lesson.”

“Yes Nana.” Hamish and say together.

“Good. I will not have my grandchildren getting drunk under my roof. No sir. It’s not proper.”

Hamish snorts.

“What?” Nana asks him.

“Well. Proper.” He says.

“Yes. What’s so funny about that?”

“Is it true you used to be a stripper?” I ask.

“If you boys have been you tubing me again.” She threatens.

Hamish and I chuckle.


	11. The Silver Blaze

This week was Parent-Teacher conferences.

Dad had gone with Hamish and Papa was coming with me.

Every year they switched.

I just hoped this year didn’t end in tears. 

“Which one is yours?” Papa asks looking at the art work posted on the wall.

I open my mouth but he holds up a hand.

“No. Don’t tell me. I am sure I can figure it out.”

“Dad seems depressed.”

“It’s to be expected.”

“I just wish there was something we could do for him.”

“Apparently we have to let him work through the stages of grief on his own.”

“Right.”

His hand curls.

“You want to take out your magnifying glass.” I tell him.

He purses his lips.

“Could be useful.”

I giggle.

“These are all so…hideous.”

I snort.

“Except for this one.” He says pointing at the drawing. “This one has to be yours.”

“Are you sure?”

He looks down at me.

“Of course. It’s the view of the street from the sitting room window at 221B.”

I smile and nod.

“Look. You even drew in the CCTV camera.”

“I didn’t want Uncle Mycroft to feel left out.”

He chuckles.

“Whenever you are ready.” Mrs. Blythe calls.

Dad sighs.

“Best not to drag this on any longer than I have to.”

I follow him to the front of the class.

“Mr. Holmes.” Mrs. Blythe says holding out her hand.

“Watson-Holmes.” Papa says sitting down.

Mrs. Blythe lowers her hand.

“Right. Sorry.”

She sits and I follow suit.

Papa looks around the classroom.

“Your son is a very smart little boy.”

“Of course.” Papa tells her.

“He is above level in English, History and Science. He does struggle a bit with his Math’s but that is to be expected. He also excels in Geography and Art.”

“If you are going to spend the rest of the twenty minutes telling me how exceptional my son is, I assure you that there is no need. John and I are very well aware that our sons are extremely extraordinary. So you may wish to save your compliments for the parents whose children are slow and ordinary.”

Oh god.

Mrs. Blythe glances at me.

I sit up straighter.

“Yes.” She says clasping her hands together and resting them on the desk top. “Mr. Holmes.”

“Watson-Holmes.”

“Mr. Watson-Holmes. I enjoy very much having your son in my classroom. He is polite and attentive. However-”

Papa narrows his eyes.

“He seems to be having some trouble making friends.”

Papa scoffs.

“Interacting with children his age is very important. He needs to learn how to speak and play with the other children. You son would rather spend free time reading or writing in his journal than spending it with his classmates.”

“And?”

“He should be playing and roughhousing with other boys instead of just sitting there. Do you know what your son brought in for Science Week Show and Tell?”

“I would deduce it but I am sure you are about to tell me. I know you only asked for dramatic effect.”

Okay.

This was starting to be a bit not good.

“He brought in a human skull. He said it was his friend. It had a name. And he listed ‘solving murders and looking at crime scenes’ in the hobby column. Mr. Holmes-”

“Watson-Holmes.”

“I know you and your life partner-”

“Husband.”

“Are considered to be celebraties but I just don’t think-”

Papa scoffs again.

“that your career choice is any kind of environment for a child to grow up in. What your son needs is a normal family structure. It is not natural for a child his age to not have friends, to not know how to speak to other children. If it continues on this way he will become an outcast. So I will highly recommend to the principle that William be held back, maybe put in a lower level. He is very smart but he just doesn’t belong here.”

“What.” Papa says very calmly.

I close my eyes.

Shit.

How long would it take Dad to get down here?

Probably wouldn’t arrive in time to save Mrs. Blythe from Papa’s wrath anyways.

I look at Papa.

He was beyond angry.

He literally looked homicidal.

His eyes shone with a silvery fire.

Double shit.

“Mr. Holmes.” Mrs. Blythe says putting up her hand like that would stop Papa from chewing her up.

“I know every idiot is entitled to their opinion, at least that’s what John says. But this would put even Anderson to shame. At least he’s learned to think before opening his mouth. But you. Where exactly do you get the right to say that my son is not normal? That our family is not normal?”

“That is not-”

“Maybe you should go back to school and learn how to be a teacher.”

“Excuse me. But I am a teacher.”

“And when exactly did you get your degree? Couldn’t have been while you were participating in amateur pornography films.”

“I never-”

“Or while you worked your way through your professor’s beds.”

“Okay. Look-”

“And the least said about your ‘studies’ abroad the better.”

“Mr. Holmes.”

“Halfwits like you is the reason why there is so much more stupid in the world. I will not sit here while you insinuate that my son is in any way abnormal. And don’t you dare say that is not what you meant.”

“I just, I mean. He’s a bit weird and he acts like…” Mrs. Blythe says.

“Like what?” Papa asks.

“Like a freak. I’m sorry, I know you think your son is gifted but-”

“A freak.”

“Yes.”

Papa slaps his palm down on the desk.

Mrs. Blythe and I jump in our seats.

I swallow.

He stands and leans over the desk towards Mrs. Blythe.

“My son is NOT a freak!”

My heart was beating very rapidly right now.

Papa was being so fucking scary.

The parents waiting outside the classroom look in through the glass window on the door.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Shut up! You think you can say whatever the fuck you want because you are in a position of power. But that is not the way it works and I will not allow some tart to pass judgment on my son. Now look at William and apologize for the words that just came out of your stupid mouth.”

Mrs. Blythe was breathing very rapidly and I was worried she might pass out.

She looks at me.

“I am sorry William.”

I nod.

Papa stands up straight.

“Should have stuck to what you were somewhat good at. I hope you have other career options because after tonight you will no longer be teaching.”

“You can’t-”

“Should have thought of that before you sat there and called my son a freak. Say good-bye William.”

I look at Mrs. Blythe.

She stares back at me.

“Good…well. Uh. I hope you get home safely.”

Her eyes widen in fear.

I go collect my things.

“Come along.” Papa says holding the door open for me.

He glares back at Mrs. Blythe.

The principle meets us in the hall.

“Is there a problem?” He asks.

“Yes. I suggest you start looking for a replacement for Mrs. Blythe.” Papa says taking my hand and leading me out the building.

“What?” The principle calls.

Papa lets the front door slam behind us.

He kneels on one knee and cups my face.

“Don’t listen to what she said. Delete it. There is nothing wrong with you.”

“She made some valid points. I really don’t enjoy talking to the other kids. I thought I could be like them at first. But I can’t. And I thought they would all like Skully. What if there is something wrong with me?”

“There is nothing wrong with you! You are different but in no way is that wrong or bad. Don’t ever think you are abnormal. Don’t ever believe that you are a freak.” His eyes well with tears. “You are very smart and sometimes people will resent how easy things are for you. But don’t ever pretend to be someone you are not. John, Hamish and I love you exactly for you who are. As does the rest of our family. Do you understand?”

I nod.

He pulls me into a hug.

***********************

“How did it go?” Dad asks entering the sitting room.

Hamish falls on the couch beside me.

“William is never going back to that school.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Turns out his teacher was better at sex than teaching.”

Hamish raises an eyebrow.

“That school gets better and better.” He says.

I elbow his side.

“What?” Dad asks confused.

Papa throws his book at the wall.

“He might still be upset.” I tell Dad.

“Yeah. I’m getting that. Sherlock. What happened?”

“She called him a freak John. A freak!”

Dad purses his lips.

“I’m going to go have a talk with her.” Dad says.

Triple shit.

Dad always carried his gun.

“I took care of it. Well, Mycroft is going to take care of it.”

“Good.”

Dad kisses my head.

“How are you?” He asks me.

“Better than Papa.”

He smiles.

“Good.”

“Is blowing up someone’s car still considered a terrorist attack?” Papa asks. “Never mind. I’ll ask Greg.” He say grabbing his mobile and moving towards the kitchen.

“Sherlock.” Dad says following him.

“I bet you that box of chocolates you have hidden in your t-shirt drawer that they have sex.” Hamish says.

“No deal. Of course they’re going to have sex. Dad is addicted to adrenalin and Papa sure is giving it off in waves.”

“At least Dad won’t be as depressed.”

“Yeah. Seeing Papa naked might cheer him up a bit.”

Gladstone shakes his head at us before sighing loudly.


	12. Donovan and the Sussex Vampire

“Well. Can’t say it’s any better than the rest of the building but at least you have more room.” Hammy says as we enter Uncle Greg’s office.

We hadn’t been by to visit him since he became Superintendent.

“What are you two doing here?” He asks.

“I’m on holiday while Papa and Dad figure out where I’m going to go to school and Hammy is on protest.”

“I shouldn’t have to go to school if Will gets to stay home. My school is stupid anyways.”

“Right.” Uncle Greg says. “Why aren’t you going to your regular school?” He asks me.

“Didn’t Uncle Mycroft tell you? My teacher is a sex worker.”

“What?”

“Well, my previous teacher.”

Hammy sprawls over the chair in front of Uncle Greg’s desk.

“A sex worker?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know if she still does that but Papa seems to think so.”

“And why are you here again?”

“We thought we should give our parents some privacy. Dad’s been depressed about Aunt Harry and sex with Papa helps to calm him down.”

“I see.” He stares at us. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Only when they have sex on the couch. Or on the desk.” I say.

“That is not what I meant.”

“Then what?” Hamish asks.

“Well, you two seem to talk about your parent’s sex life a lot and you say it so casually. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Why should it?” I ask.

“Sex between couples is a way of life. Don’t you and Uncle Mycroft still have sex?” Hammy says.

Uncle clears his throat.

“I really don’t want to talk to you boys about that. Why are you so interested in sex anyways? You’re kids, not even in the double digits yet. Give it a rest.”

“Sex is a way of life! It dominates everything. What’s wrong with being so open about it?” Hammy ask.

“It’s weird and I don’t like it.” He says.

“Come on Uncle. Our parents have sex all the time, Nana probably would be too if she had a man and a good hip. Gran and Gramps still try to get it on, we just hooked up Uncle Phil. Aunt Molly dates all the time. When was the last time you and Uncle Mike had a real go at it? With orgasms and snuggling?” I ask.

“Two weeks before their anniversary.” Hammy says.

“Really?” I ask.

“Yeah.” Hammy says.

“Hmm.”

Hammy and I study him.

“Stop it.” He says waving a finger at us. “No deducing me about my sex life.”

“Fine. Be boring.” Hamish tells him.

“Alright. So what are you doing?” I say walking around to look over his shoulder.

“Just going through some files.”

“Case files?” Hamish asks sitting up.

“Yeah. Don’t look too excited, these have all been solved. I am just making sure that all documentation has been properly filled before putting these files in with the rest of the closed cases.”

“Ugh.” Hamish says slouching back down.

“No. Not ugh. This is good.” Uncle Greg says. “Less scum wandering out there in our streets.”

“Well yes but less distraction for Papa. And you know how Dad needs his monthly dose of adrenalin.”

“I am sure they get enough of that with you two around.”

“Well. We try.” I smile.

“You take compliment of the oddest things.” He says.

“Thank you.”

“Sir. Oh, sorry.” A woman says entering.

Detective, working with children, marriage on the rocks, one child.

She stops at the doorway.

“It’s alright Donovan, come in.”

I stare at the female as she comes forward.

Hamish glances at her.

“Donovan.” Hammy repeats. 

She looks at him.

“Your face and name are familiar but I seem to have deleted you up here.” Hamish says waving a hand towards his head.

“You remember Hamish don’t you Donovan?” Uncle asks her.

She stares at Hamish.

“Of course. How could I forget?”

Bitter.

Ah.

“Oh. You got fired.” I say nodding my head. “Yeah, my teacher. Well, ex-teacher, just learned that lesson.”

“What lesson?” She asks.

“Don’t mess with a Watson-Holmes. It’s pretty simple really. Papa knows people and Dad always carries a gun.” I smile.

“This is William, Hamish’s brother.”

“They have two.” She says.

“Of course. One is such a lonely number.” I say sitting next to my brother and throwing an arm around him.

Hamish rolls his eyes.

Donovan stares at us before looking back at Uncle.

“Sir. I need your permission to remove the Ferguson children from their home.” Donovan says handing over the case file to Uncle. “The mother is mentally unstable, can’t say that the father is all there either. Father is also ill and under doctor care. He cannot care for the children himself.”

“Why mentally unstable?” I ask.

Uncle frowns as he reads the file.

Donovan ignores me.

“It says here that Mr. Ferguson thinks his wife is drinking the blood of their son. Like a vampire?” Uncle says.

“Yes.” Donovan says.

Hamish wags his fingers at Uncle.

He hands over the file.

Donovan presses her lips together disapprovingly.

My brother and I look at the photographs.

“How old are the children?” I ask.

No one answers.

I look at my Uncle and Donovan.

Uncle nods his head at her.

“Donovan.” Uncle says.

“You can’t be serious.” She says. “They’re just children.” She says pointing down at us.

“And very good at what they do. Sherlock is their father, remember?”

“I remember the things he did, yes.” She says.

“Donovan.” Uncle warns.

“Oh. You thought Papa was a fake.” Hammy says looking at Donovan. “You used to call him names. That’s how I know you. I thought you got fired?”

“Transferred.” She says through clenched teeth.

“To what department?” I ask.

“Child Endangerment Unit.”

Hamish chuckles.

Donovan glares.

“Hmm. And do you still think Papa is a fake?” I ask.

She doesn’t say anything.

“I see. Well, don’t worry about this case anymore. We’re taking over.” I say standing.

“We’ll be in the conference room.” Hammy says following me to the door.

“Sir!” Donovan says.

“Can you call Uncle Phil and tell him to meet us there? Might need his input.” I say.

Uncle nods.

“Thank you. Donovan, a piece of advice. Just because someone is smarter than you doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong with them. You felt inferior and you resented Papa for that. But all you had to do was ask, he would have helped you to see.”

Hammy looks her up and down.

“Not that he could have done much to help you, he isn’t a miracle worker after all.” Hammy snorts. “Idiot.”

I push my brother out of the room.

“Oh. And you might want to fire your nanny or your husband will be a very bad boy!” Hamish shouts back into the office.

I close the door.

We can hear Donovan arguing with Uncle.

“Way to ruin it. My parting speech was good.”

“It was sentimental. It’s not like she gave a two shits about what you were saying.”

I open the door to the conference room and Hammy flicks on the lights.

“You don’t know. I could have gotten to her.”

“Hello boys.”

“Uncle Phil.”

“Greg said you needed me?”

“Yep. Take a look at this.” I say handing him the photograph of the puncture marks on the child’s neck.

“Father claims the mother is drinking the blood of the child.” Hammy says.

“Well. These are not teeth marks.”

“It’s what I thought. It looks more like a needle puncture.” Hammy says reading the file.

“The older boy doesn’t have any. Only the baby.” I say.

“We’d have to look at the victim in person but this certainly isn’t the work of any vampire.” Uncle says.

“Good. I’ll call Papa. He might want to come on this.” I say pulling out Uncle Phil’s mobile.

Uncle shakes his head at me.

“You could have asked.” He says.

“Yes. But I have to practice.” I say dialing the number.

Uncle and Hammy go back to looking over the file.

“Hello?”

“Papa.”

“William. Why are you using Anderson’s phone?”

“Because you won’t buy us our own phones.”

He sighs.

“What is it?”

“We need to go to Sussex.”

“Case?”

“Yep.”

“How good?”

“I am sure you’ve heard of vampire’s right?”

“Fictional characters. Boring.”

“It’s not a cult. Contained occurrence.”

“Still not enough to warrant my leaving the flat.”

“We took the case from Donovan.”

“Go on.” He says suddenly interested.

“Papa’s in.” I tell my brother and Uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dana_san suggested in the last installment that Donovan should be transferred to the Child Endangerment Unit so that she could see the impact negative actions have on a child and I completely agree. So here you are. The case is from Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories Volume II called ‘The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire’.


	13. The Residency

“It’s so boring here. No wonder you always give in to Papa’s booty calls.” Hammy says.

I look through the patients files.

Some of the patients in the waiting room look at us.

Dad smiles at them and nods.

He looks at us.

“Now listen. The only reason I am letting you boys be here with me is because-”

“You need help.” I say.

“-Sherlock is on a case I’d rather not have you boys involved with. And your Nana needs some time to herself.”

“All she does is watch telly and smoke marijuana.” Hammy says.

“Still. She needs her privacy to do that. It’s for her hip.”

I snort.

“I don’t believe that either but she has a prescription from her doctor.” Dad says.

“You?” I ask.

“No. Some other guy.”

“As long as she remembers to feed Gladstone.” I say.

“But we know Papa used to be a crack head.” Hammy says. “Why can’t we help him out?”

“He wasn’t a crack head.” Dad says.

“Coke head.” I say.

Dad takes a deep breath.

“Okay, look. My secretary is still out with the flu and I need you boys to help me again today. You did very good yesterday morning. And I can’t do it all by myself.”

“And you got saddled with an idiot for an intern.” Hammy nods.

“He is doing his residency hours here.” Dad says.

“You sure he went to med school? Yesterday he forgot to turn on the thermometer to take Mrs. Willis’ temperature.”

“He did go to school, I checked.” Dad says.

“I’ll have Uncle Mycroft run a background check.” Hammy says picking up the receiver and dialing the number.

“Hammy.” Dad says making a grab for the receiver.

“Hello Uncle, how are you? Fine, thank you. I need you to do a background check on someone. No, just an idiot doing his hours here with Dad. Well, your goldfish would eat him alive that’s for sure.” Hammy says chuckling. “No. I would have asked Uncle Greg but I need something much more thorough. The name.” He snaps his fingers at me. 

I bring up the information on the computer.

“Robert Page.” He says. “Yes. Alright, let me know.”

I signal at him.

“Oh yes. Did you know that Uncle Greg has a sexual fantasy of you taking him somewhat forcefully over his desk? I think the fear of getting caught or heard might have something to do with it. And you’re always so…proper. Might want to change it up you know? Spice things up. Okay well, something to think about. You could skip afternoon tea and just pop over to Scotland Yard. Oh, and remember to use your knees. Wouldn’t want you to ruin it by putting out your back.”

“Jesus.” Dad says pacing away.

“Thank you and you’re welcome.” Hammy says before hanging up.

“So?” I ask.

“What did he say?” Dad asks.

“He’ll think about doing Uncle Greg in his office. I think he’s a bit bashful when it comes to sex.”

“That is not what I was asking. A little more than I wanted to know. More than I wanted you boys to know.” Dad says.

“Oh right. He’s going to call back and let us know what he finds.”

“Can you just behave from now until it’s time to go home? I have a lot of patients and I really don’t have time to be running interference between you and them.”

“Don’t know. You’re asking too much and I’m not sure I can handle the responsibility.” Hammy says.

I elbow him.

“Reading you loud and clear sir.” I say saluting Dad.

“Just. Stay here and be helpful.” He says before walking into his office.

“Today I’ll answer phones.” Hammy says.

“Then I’ll just take care of today’s appointments.”

Hammy nods.

“Remember to be polite.” I tell him.

“Don’t worry. I got this.”

Yeah right.

I pull up the patient names that Dad was seeing today before looking for their medical files.

There was no need for paper files, not since 2012.

But Dad liked to have backups in case the computer system went down.

Which it did, all the time.

Stupid computer.

The phone rings.

Hammy picks up the receiver.

“Dr. Watson’s office. What do you want?”

I shake my head.

He grabs Dad’s appointment book.

“Good morning.”

I look up at Robert.

“Hello.”

“So you boys are helping out again today huh?”

“Obviously.” Hammy says hanging up the phone.

“Well. I better go set up.” He smiles.

“Might want to zip up your trousers while you’re at it.” I tell him.

He looks down at his trousers before looking at us.

“Uh.” He blushes. “Excuse me.” He mutters before walking away quickly.

Hammy and I giggle.

I buzz Dad.

“Yes?”

“Ready?”

“Yes. Bring in the first patient.”

“Okeydokey.”

I stand.

“Cecilia.” I call.

The woman stands.

“This way please.”

“Crabs.” Hammy says as we pass.

“Nope. Herpes.”

“Ugh! It’s always something.”

“Don’t worry. Crotch diseases are hard.”

He snorts a laugh.

I smile and lead the woman into Dad’s examination room.

“Cecilia, herpes.” I say handing him the file.

“Thank you. But you know, you don’t have to say the issue out loud.” Dad says.

“Then what’s the point?”

“Just go with your brother.”

I nod and close the door behind me.

“Dr. Watson’s office. What do you want?”

I sit back down next to Hammy.

“Oh, Uncle Mycroft. What did you find?”

I grab the receiver and hold it up so that we can both press our ears to it.

“Robert Page did graduate from medical school six months ago, however. There seems to be a bit of an anomaly with his file.”

“What kind of anomaly?” I ask.

“He disappeared for three weeks before returning. His family filed a missing person’s report with the local police. No traces of foul play were found and since he is an adult, if he wished to stay under the radar for some time that is his privilege.”

“Did he say why he disappeared?” Hammy asks.

“According to Mr. Page, he needed some time to himself after his stressful time in medical school.”

“Doesn’t sound right to me.” I say.

“Yes. Especially when you compare it to the fact that his twin brother ended up being killed close to where Robert was lodging a week before he came back from his hiatus.”

Hammy and I glance at each other.

“He has tried to complete his residency in other medical facilities but he has been fired from all of them. There is no proof but they suspected he was stealing medical equipment and drugs. He was slapped with a sexual harassment suit but it was dismissed.”

“Billy.”

I jump as the intercom comes to life.

“Yeah Dad?”

“Send the other patient in please.”

“Okay.”

“I am sending Anthea over with his file. I need you to compare it to the dates he gave your father on his CV.”

“Will do.”

“As long as you both realize that Anthea is only there to help you. She is not your personal assistant.” 

Yes she is.

“Understood?”

“Yes Uncle.” Hammy and I say.

“Good. I will be in contact.”

I stand, grabbing the next file.

“Doris.”

She stands and follows me into the examination room.

“Doris, diarre-”

Dad raises his eyebrow.

I close my mouth and hand him the file.

“Thank you.”

I walk out.

“I’m ready for my first patient.” Robert says.

“Good.” I shove the files into his hands before sitting back down.

Robert clears his throat before calling his first patient.

“Good morning boys.”

We look up at Anthea.

She hands me the box of donuts and hands Hammy the tray of hot drinks.

“Hello Anthea. You look…” I grasp for the right word.

“Very good.” Hammy says.

“Thank you. I’ve told you to call me Auntie.”

“Can’t.” Hammy says.

“You are our version of the perfect woman.” I say.

“Sexy, smart and trained to kill.” Hammy adds.

“You are the totem that we will measure any future sexual partners against.” 

“It would be inappropriate to call you Aunt when we will sometime in the future use you as our sexual fantasy.” 

She smiles and cards her fingers through our hair.

“I’m flattered.” She says. 

She hands over the file Uncle Mike sent over.

“Pull up a chair.” I tell her.

She grabs a chair and sets it next to ours.

“Let me bring up the information.” I say.

Hamish sniffs Anthea’s neck.

“Versace.” He says.

“Very good.” Anthea smiles.

“Hello.” Robert says coming over.

“Hello.” Anthea answers back.

“And what is your name?”

Ugh.

“Classified.” Anthea smiles.

Robert looks a bit thrown off.

“Right. Well. If you get tired of sitting with the kids, you can always come and visit me in my office.” He smiles.

“Worse line ever.” Hammy says.

“Maybe you should just go back to your office. Now.” I tell him.

Robert stares at us a moment before walking away.

Anthea chuckles.

“This is fun. I should visit more often.”

“Yes. You can come up to the flat and I can show you my skull. It has a very round head.” Hammy says.

We giggle.

Anthea snorts.

She hands us our drinks.

“Hot chocolate.” She says.

“Thank you.” We say.

“Anthea. What-I mean, hello.” Dad says.

Anthea gives him a hug.

I think Dad will always have a tinny crush on her.

The way Papa still harbored a crush for The Woman.

“John. You look very well.”

“Thank you. So do you. I see the boys have recruited you.”

“Yes. It’s nice to get out of the office sometimes. I brought you some coffee.” She says handing him the cup.

“Thank you. Mmm. This is very good.”

Anthea sits back down.

He watches us compare information for a moment.

“Don’t tell me you’ve started a case against Robert.” He tells us.

“Then don’t ask.” Hammy says smiling at him.

“We suspect that he killed his twin brother, the actual Robert Page, before stealing his identity. Reasons are as of yet unknown. We need to do some more investigating.” I tell him.

“I need you boys to focus on helping me right now.” Dad says.

“And let a murderer run free?” Hammy asks.

“Shh! We don’t know that he’s a murderer.” Dad whispers.

“Has any of your inventory gone missing?” I ask.

“What?”

“That’s his MO.”

Dad frowns thoughtfully.

“Uhh. There is a bit of shortage on syringes but nothing else.”

“Good. Very good.” Hammy says writing it down.

“You have a camera in the supply room and the medicine vaults, right?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“We can check those. And compare the times he goes in there to his medical notes. No reason for him to go looking for needles when his patient isn’t in need of a jab.” I say.

“That is very sneaky and smart.” Dad says.

“Thank you.” Hammy and I say.

“Although anyone in law enforcement would have thought of it.” I say.

“Well. The non-idiots.” Hammy says.

Dad looks sternly at him.

“Don’t worry John. I will help you while the boys investigate.”

“You don’t have to Anthea.”

“Don’t worry. Let the detectives do their work. I’ll stay and help you with your patients.”

“Thank you.” Dad says smiling at her.

Hammy and I glance at him.

He clears his throat.

“Right. Well. I’ll go back and wait for my next patient then.”

I hand Anthea the list of patients scheduled for that day.

“Thank you.” Hammy and I tell her kissing her cheek.

“You are welcome.” She smiles.

I print out a copy of Robert’s file.

“Come on.” Hamish says grabbing the documents Uncle Mike had sent over.

“Have fun.” Anthea calls.

“Wait.” I say.

I go back for the hot chocolates.

No need for them to go to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut this one here because it was getting too long. Guess I’m adding another chapter to this story.


	14. The Case of the Stolen Identity

“Knew you’d turn up eventually.” Uncle says sipping his brandy.

“Isn’t it too early for you to be drinking?” I ask.

He glances at us.

“Just trying to calm my nerves.”

“Ah.” Hammy says.

“We are not that difficult to deal with. And we always give you great advice.” I say closing the door to his private office inside of the Diogenes.

“Of course. I always do enjoy having children meddle in my private affairs.” He says with a thin smile.

“Secretly, well not so secretly, you are pleased that we care so much for you and that we try to fix what we consider to be problems in your relationship with Uncle Greg. You were afraid that we would grow up resenting your protective tendencies the way Papa did. You are also happy that since we’ve been around, you and Papa have settled the majority of your issues. You are joyed whenever he comes to you for help, like with Will’s ex-teacher.” Hammy tells him.

“Can’t be entirely too happy that the both of you have learned to deduce so easily but I suppose that I should be proud.” He says.

“We already know you are.” I tell him.

He sighs.

“What can I help you with?” He asks.

“We need all you have on Robert Page and his twin brother.” I tell him.

“Stephen Page.” He says handing over the file.

Hammy and I sit in the chair across from him, me on the seat and Hammy on the arm rest.

“Take a close look at the photographs.”

There was a few differences between the brothers. For one, Stephen had blue eyes while Robert had green eyes.

“Easily fixed with contacts.” I say.

Hammy nods.

And the other difference was that Robert had a mole under his chin on the right hand side.

Stephen did not.

I try to think back if I had seen a mole on ‘Robert’, but I deleted it if I ever saw it.

“No. No mole.” Hammy says.

“Stephen is a gambling man, spent all his savings betting at the race tracks and at the card tables. His brother was much more careful. He made a few choice investments which recently paid off. Stephen was being hounded by his bookies and I believe he turned to his brother for help.”

“Did they have a good relationship?” Hammy asks.

“Not really. Robert had persuaded his brother to seek professional help for his gambling problem and Stephen did not agree. They hadn’t spoken in years.”

“What are the chances that they would bury the hatchet and reunite in those three weeks while Robert was on hiatus?” I ask.

“Slim to none.” Uncle says. “There is no record that they ever made contact. Robert graduated, had a celebration with his family. Stephen was not present. We checked his mobile and home phone records. There are no calls made to or from any unknown number.”

“Did the parents speak or see Stephen while Robert was away?” I ask.

“No.”

“He could have killed his brother for the money.” Hammy says.

“Yes. Or?” Uncle asks.

“Or maybe it was an accidental death. But it doesn’t make sense.”

“How so?” Uncle asks.

“Well. If it was accidental, why wouldn’t Stephen report it? Why impersonate his brother? There is no way he can pretend to be Robert for a substantial amount of time.”

“And he could have just taken his brothers money if that is what he was after. There was never a need for this charade.” Hammy adds.

I nod.

Uncle nods thoughtfully.

“Yes. But you are forgetting one thing. Stephen owed a lot of not so good people a considerable amount of money. Even if he took his brother’s money, there is no guarantee that he would have gotten out of that mess alive.” Uncle says.

“So he needed a new identity.” I say.

“Yes.”

“Where is his brother’s body now?” Hammy asks.

“Cremated.”

“Were any test done on him? Any blood samples on file?” I ask.

Uncle smiles.

“Fortunately for you, we have retained some blood samples.”

Hammy and I smile back.

“Knew there was a reason why we loved you.” I tell him.

He chuckles.

“Cheers.” He says clinking his tumbler against our Styrofoam cups.

***********************

We watch as Stephen is taken into custody.

There was no proof yet that he had killed his brother but we knew he would bend under the interrogation of one person.

Sherlock Watson-Holmes.

“I’ve called Sherlock. He’s almost finished with his case. Two more days at the most.” Dad says watching as Stephen is led away.

He clenches his fists.

I touch his wrist and he relaxes his shoulders.

“I can’t believe that bastard was around my children.” Dad says hugging us close to his side.

“Alright. How did you figure this one out?” DI Dimmock asks.

“DNA testing.” I say.

“There is always a difference in sequencing, even in twins.” Hammy tells him.

“Brilliant.” He smiles.

I nod in thanks.

“Of course, we did have some help from the British Government.” I add.

“The British Government?” He asks.

“Yes.”

Anthea comes over.

Dimmock stares at her.

“Down boy.” I tell him.

He closes his mouth.

“Never a boring day around a Holmes I see, especially a Watson-Holmes. I think those are the most dangerous kind.” She smiles.

Dad chuckles.

“Wouldn’t want you getting bored.” I say.

“Or too relaxed.” Hammy says.

“Mr. Holmes needs me back now. I’ll see you boys later.”

“Take care.” Hammy and I tell her.

She winks at us.

“Anthea, thank you so much for helping me out today.”

“Don’t worry about it John. It was nice. Less hectic or life threatening.” 

She and Dad chuckle.

“Still. Thank you very much.”

She nods and kisses his cheek.

“Bye.” She tells us before walking away.

“Who was that goddess?” Dimmock asks.

“She’s out of your league Timothy.” I tell him.

“She would chew you up and spit you out.” Hammy says.

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.” He says.

Dad shakes his head.

“Well. Time to go home. I’m sure you boys have had a long day full of detective work.”

“And you with your mundane work.” I say.

“Dimmock. Anything else you need?” Dad asks.

“No. It’s fine. Well. Maybe Anthea’s number?”

“We’ll pass your interest on. Just don’t get your hopes up.” I say patting his arm.

“Thank you.”

Dad leads us away.

“What do you boys feel like eating for dinner?”

“Chinese.” Hammy and I say.

He nods.

“You boys read my mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to throw a moment between Mycroft and the boys into this fic.


	15. The Adventure of Private School

I glare as I am shoved and elbowed out of the way.

“Excuse you.”

Bastards.

Didn’t anyone know how to walk anymore?

I round the corner and stop.

“You better watch yourself Freak.”

I catch sight of Hammy being shoved into the wall by two other boys.

I walk closer.

“Wouldn’t want your skull getting damaged now would we?” The boy threatens holding Skully out of Hammy’s reach.

“Do you?” Hamish asks him.

The boy frowns in confusion.

“You threatening us Curly?” The other boy asks.

“Would you understand even if I was?” Hammy asks.

I snort.

Alright.

Enough of this.

I snatch Skully back and shove the boys out of the way.

“Oi!”

“Watch it!”

“You alright?” I ask my brother.

“Fine.” He says fixing his uniform.

I nod.

“You should learn to mind your business Blondie.”

“Name calling? Is that all you can do? Ginger.” I say.

Hamish snorts.

“We can take care of you too Short Stack.” The other one says.

“And I can take of you, for a fee of course. Chubby.”

“You think you’re funny?” Ginger asks.

“Sometimes, when the mood strikes me.” I shrug.

“Come on, these idiots aren’t worth our time.” Hammy says taking my arm.

“How did you two poofters even get into this school? Your mom shagging the head master?” Chubby asks.

“Well, it seems to have worked out for your mother.” I tell him. “Of course, your dad was shagging him too. So win-win I guess.”

“What did you say about my mum?” He asks shuffling closer.

“Don’t listen to them Andy. These bitches don’t know what they’re talking about. How could they? Just look at them. That one is weird looking.” Ginger says pointing at Hammy. “And this midget, isn’t he precious?” He asks pinching my cheek.

I thrust Skully at Hammy.

I grab Ginger’s wrist and twist his arm towards his back.

I press him up against the wall.

“I could break your arm so easily right now.”

He groans as I push his wrist up higher.

My heart was beating rapidly, my cheeks were flushed and my vision was zeroed in on my prey.

“I’m kind of liking this whole adrenalin thing. Knew there was a reason why Dad enjoyed it so much. It’s fun.” I say.

He kicks out at me and catches me in the shin.

It breaks the hold I had on him.

He turns and shoves me.

Hamish catches me.

“Watch yourselves.” Ginger threatens.

We had gathered a crowd at this point.

“Or what?” Hammy asks.

“I am sure there is information you don’t want people to know. We have ways of getting it.” Ginger says.

“So do we.” I tell him.

“Liar.” Andy says.

“Your sister likes to beat you up, there are scratch marks on your wrist. You flinch every time a female passes too close or talks too loudly. Could be your mother but going by the state of your uniform, your mother isn’t around much. So your sister then. You feel emasculated, it’s the reason why you enjoy bullying people. Of course you let Ginger push you around, you don’t notice it. Of course not, you’re so used to being led around by the balls.” Hammy says.

The other kids laugh.

Andy throws a punch at Hammy.

I shove his fist aside so that he catches the concrete wall.

He yells in pain.

“That’s it! I’m going to kill these bitches!”

Hammy passes Skully back to me before shoving Andy away from me.

I move to help my brother but Ginger stands in the way.

He tugs on my tie.

That hurt.

I slap his hand away.

He smirks.

He shoves me back, farther away from my brother.

“What’s your deal then? Your dad shagging his dad?” He chuckles.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” 

I punch him in the mouth.

He falls.

He holds a hand to his bleeding mouth.

“Next time you touch my brother I will punch the teeth out of your mouth and make you swallow them. Understood?” 

He nods.

“A little help!”

I look at Hammy.

Andy had him by the throat.

I set Skully down and grab my book bag.

I hit Andy over the back of the head with it.

He falls like a sack of spuds.

The other kids stand in silence.

“Well? Who else want’s some?” Hammy asks.

The kids start murmuring amongst each other.

Hammy and I stare at each other for a moment before we start giggling.

“What in god’s name is going on here?” The headmaster asks as he pushes his way past the crowd.

He stares at the two fallen boys before staring at us.

Andy groans his way back to consciousness and Ginger was sniffling somewhere behind me.

“In my office, now! Everyone else, back to class.”

The crowd disperses.

“Well. I guess there is some enjoyment in private school.” Hammy says bending to retrieve Skully and his book bag.

I giggle.

“Shh. We can’t giggle if we want to look contrite about what we did.” I say.

“But we’re not.”

“Of course not. But the headmaster doesn’t need to know that.”

***********************

Papa walks in.

We stare at him.

He looks at us before walking into the headmaster’s office.

He comes back out after five or six minutes.

He nods towards the exit.

There is a black unmarked car waiting for us.

Papa gets in before we follow him.

The car glides into traffic.

“So?” Hammy asks after minutes of silence.

Papa shrugs.

“John isn’t going to be too happy so you might want to prepare for that.”

We nod.

“What about you?” I ask.

He looks at us.

“You did what you had to do. I am glad you stood up for each other. Could have done without the physical violence but at least you weren’t beaten.”

“Are the boys going to press charges?” I ask.

“Of course not. They started the altercation. The head master understands that.”

“Does he?” Hammy asks.

Papa smiles.

“He does now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was envisioning some Teen!lock for this chapter. I kind of imagine this was what school was like for Sherlock. Of course, Hammy and Will have each other’s backs. And I’m sure Sherlock treated and avoided people as if they had the plague. Also, Sherlock behaving like a high functioning sociopath would have an impact in the way Will and Hamish behave towards people outside their immediate family.


	16. The Treaty

“Two weeks! Two bloody weeks at your new school and already you’re suspended for a week.” Dad says pacing the sitting room.

“John. You know the headmaster only did that so that he could comply with the rules. And also so that he wouldn’t be accused of favoritism. It’s not going to go on their permanent records.”

“They are still expelled from school.”

“Well, yes.”

“Mycroft put in a good word for you two and this is how you repay him?”

“Sorry.” I say.

Hammy nods.

“Do you two have anything to say for yourselves?”

Hammy and I glance at each other.

I clear my throat.

“Yeah. We might have a problem.” I mumble.

“What kind of problem?” Dad asks.

“Well today we got a very large amount of adrenalin and uhm, we enjoyed it very much.” I say. “How do we go about obtaining more?”

Papa snorts.

“It’s not funny.” Dad tells him before looking back at us. “You could have seriously hurt those two boys today. Did you think of that?”

“They were really begging for it.” Hammy says.

I nod.

“Well you two have a whole week to think about what you did.”

“Come on Dad, you know we’re not going to be thinking about that. It’s already semi-deleted from my mind palace.” Hammy says.

Dad pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know what else to say. Sherlock, some help here would be nice.”

“What do you want me to say?” Papa asks him.

“That it was wrong maybe?”

“Those boys had to be stopped.”

“Yes. But they didn’t deserve to have the crap beaten out of them!”

“Yes, fine. Violence is not always the answer.”

Dad nods.

“But you have to admit that those boys needed to be stopped.”

“Alright. Bullying isn’t right either. But Billy and Hammy should have informed an adult. If the faculty didn’t take care of it then they should have come to us instead of taking matters into their own hands.”

“John is right. There should be consequences for your actions. You two are grounded.”

“But Papa.” Hammy says.

“No.” Papa tells him.

“We didn’t actually hurt them. I don’t think I did much, except for bruising his kidneys. That I will admit to doing.” Hammy says.

“Speaking of kicking people’s asses. There actually is something we wanted to talk to you about. Hammy and I have thought about this and we want to train.” I say.

“Train?” Dad asks.

“My father spoke to you.” Papa says.

“Yeah.”

“Sherlock, what are they talking about?”

“When my father was trained as an agent he found it to be a very important tool. It gave him the means for dealing with people.”

“Killing them you mean.”

“Not all the time. It gave him the confidence and the intimidation factor he had been lacking.”

“Your father wants our children to become trained agents.”

“Essentially yes.”

“Killers.”

“No. No! Mycroft and I received the same training he did. Of course we were older but we weren’t trained to kill. It just gave us skills that allowed us to defend ourselves.”

“And you think we should let the kids do this training. You realize that they just got involved in a physical altercation at school? And this is without the training.”

“You were in training before John when you became a soldier. It wasn’t about killing was it?”

“Well, no. Not at first. Of course it’s different once you’re behind enemy lines.”

“The world is a battlefield John. I want our children to be prepared.”

“We were adults when we were trained! It’s not the same having that knowledge as a child as it is as an adult. There is a reason for that.”

“We can be mature.” Hammy says.

Dad raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well maybe not all the time.” Hammy mumbles.

“It will teach us discipline. Although it really didn’t work on Papa. But it worked for Uncle Mycroft.” I say.

“So you’ll either be worse or scary. Those two choices are not in your favor.”

“John. You know this is the right thing to do. I would feel better knowing that they knew how to defend themselves when we aren’t there to do it.”

Dad sighs and is silent for a moment.

“Look. I know this is very important and I agree. I want you boys to be safe and capable of defending yourselves when we’re not around. But I just don’t think now is the right time. Let’s wait a few more years and see where we are then. If you boys can show me that you have matured and can take responsibility for your actions then we will have a family discussion again and get you boys into training.” He says.

His points were valid.

I nod.

“Now about your punishment.”

“Dad!” I whine.

“You boys are going to be helping around here a lot more and you’re going to help your Nana and take Gladstone to walks in the park.” 

Gladstone shakes his stubby tail.

I glare at him and he gives me a self-satisfied look.

Hammy sighs.

“Yes Dad.” We say.

“You will also be keeping up with your school work. You will have private lessons with a tutor.” Papa says.

“Tutor?” I ask.

Papa glares.

“Just be glad we are not sending you spend the duration of your suspension with Mummy and Father.” He says.

“That is corporal punishment and I think it might qualify as child abuse.” Hammy tells him.

I open my mouth to agree.

“No. Keep it up. I’m down to bathroom cleaning duty already on my list.” Dad says.

I close my mouth.

“That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you boys aren’t bored.” Dad smiles.

“You can start by dusting and then you can move on to cleaning out my dirty science equipment.” Papa says standing.

He buttons his jacket.

“Where are you going?” Hammy asks sitting upright.

“Case. Dimmock texted me while I was on my way to pick you both up from school.”

“We-”

“No. You’re grounded remember.” Papa says cutting Hammy off.

“You’re enjoying this, admit it.” I say.

“Of course.”

He and Dad smile.

Hammy rolls his eyes.

This sucked.

Big time.

Oh god.

This week was going to be torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this chapter was going to involve the boys going into training but as I was writing it, it just didn’t feel right. I really don’t think John would have agreed. 
> 
> Also, in the last two chapters I will be advancing the time line.


	17. Their Father’s Sons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven years later.

Sherlock POV

I watch as Hamish opens his presents.

“I can’t believe he’s sixteen already.” John says sitting next to me.

“I know.”

“It just feels like just yesterday he was a baby and now look at him. God, he is a lot like you.”

He really was.

“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

John lays his hand over mine.

“It is.”

“Don’t know. I want him to be his own person. I don’t want our children to live in our shadows.”

“They don’t.”

I look at our friends and family.

I sigh.

“I wish Mrs. Hudson…”

I shake my head.

Damn it.

I always get over emotional when I talk about it.

I wipe my eyes.

John pats my hand.

“It was years ago, I can’t believe I’m still upset about it.”

“She meant a lot to us. She was like a mother to you and to me.”

I nod.

“I know she is here with us. She always is. Do you think she would trust us to look after our own kids on our own?”

I chuckle.

“Not really.”

“Exactly. You know she’d be complaining about the mess you left in the kitchen and fussing over the boys.”

We sit in silence for a moment and watch our sons laugh with each other.

“They make me feel so old.” John whispers.

I snort.

“Shut up. You know that we’re not young anymore. My shoulder craps out on me all the time and my psychosomatic limp isn’t so psychosomatic anymore. And there are days you can’t even get out of bed. London weather is bad for your arthritis.”

I stretch out my legs.

“I know. But we can’t leave them just yet.”

“No. I know. They’re still kids.”

“But maybe we should start planning.”

“Hmm?”

“For when we retire.” I say looking at him.

He stares back at me.

“I didn’t know the Great Sherlock Holmes planned to retire.”

“Every time I drop something I am reminded of exactly how old I am. Of course you don’t help.”

“Me?”

“Yes you.”

“How is you getting old my fault?”

“You’re still so enticing John. Unfortunately I can’t move the way I used to.” I say winking at him.

He chuckles.

He bends his head, the sunlight through the window catching his silver hair.

“Ah yes. So sorry for being so damn sexy.”

We giggle.

“What’s so funny?” William asks coming over.

I stare up at him.

He looked so much like my John.

The snub nose, the blond hair, and blue eyes.

The shoulders, his short legs and the steely determination.

“John refuses to stop being attractive.”

“Ah.” He says nodding.

“Thank you Papa.” Hamish says coming over.

“Look at you.” John tells him.

Hamish twirls in his new long coat.

I smile.

“I have lots of coats.” I say shrugging.

“That’s the coat.” John says.

“Hmm?”

“That’s the coat you were wearing when we took Hamish on his first crime scene.” John stands and walks towards Hamish. 

“How can you tell?” I ask.

“Because you carried Hamish around in that strappy thing and it rubbed against the wool. It wasn’t after that first time that you started strapping it over your jacket or shirt. Look.” 

He runs his fingers over the scuffed shoulders.

I smile.

“Yes. Brilliant deduction by the way.”

John sets his hands on Hamish’s shoulders.

“This is the coat your Papa wore the first time we took you on your first crime scene.” John’s voice wavers. 

William reclines against me and I put my arm around his waist.

“You were just an infant and I know you don’t remember. But I do. We violated so many codes bringing you to that crime scene but we wouldn’t have it any other way. Now you’re out there solving crimes without us. We are very proud of you and your brother. Keep this coat safe.”

“I will.” Hamish whispers.

John kisses Hamish’s cheek.

“So sorry for being late.” Mycroft says walking in.

“Hello.” Greg says greeting the other guests.

“You made it up the steps.” I tell him.

He glares at me from behind his gold rimmed spectacles.

“Happy Birthday Hammy.” Greg says hugging Hamish.

“Thanks Uncle Greg.”

“Yes. Congratulations on reaching the age of manhood.” Mycroft says handing Hamish a present.

“Hey Billy.” Greg says hugging William.

“Greg. So glad you two made it.” John says hugging Greg.

Mycroft sits down in John’s vacated seat.

“I’ll get you two something to drink.”

“I’ll help you.” William says following John into the kitchen.

Hamish moves off with Greg to open his present.

“So.”

I look at my brother.

“Mummy and Father are expecting you this weekend. They want to celebrate Hamish’s coming of age.”

“Yes. But that’s not what you were going to tell me.”

“No.”

“Out with it then.”

“I will be retiring soon. Gregory and I have discussed it and it is time.”

“Hmm. Can’t sit in your chair for long anymore?”

He smiles.

“Come now brother. You know what it’s like. How long can you sit at your microscope without needing assistance when you wish to stand?”

I cross my arms and refuse to answer his question.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Congratulations I suppose. Have you named your successor?”

“Yes. Gregory’s youngest daughter Johanna.”

“Ah. Still following the code of nepotism.”

“It’s such a good code. Unless your children are idiots of course.”

“Of course.”

“And? When are you planning on leaving the new detectives to their work?”

“In a few more years.”

“Hmm. When will you tell him?”

“What?”

“That he owns many properties, that he can live to be one hundred and still live a comfortable life?”

“John and I planned to sit him down tomorrow and tell him.”

“He will put William in charge of finances.”

“Yes. William is better at keeping track of expenses. I hope you will still be at your post for another few weeks.”

“The papers don’t go in until the end of the month.”

“Good. John and I are sending the boys to training.”

“Finally came to a consensus?”

“They are ready now.”

He nods.

“I will oversee it. Don’t worry, they will be looked after.”

“I’m not worried. I know they are in good hands.”

He stares back at me for a moment before smiling and nodding.

“Here we are.” John says handing Mycroft a glass of champagne.

“Thank you John.”

“Sherlock.” John says handing me my flute of champagne.

He nods at our son.

“Right.”

The birthday speech.

I stand.

“If I could have your attention for a moment please.”

Our guest look at me.

“First, I would like to thank you all for joining us on this joyous occasion. This celebration wouldn’t have been complete without all of you. Molly and Phillip, Anthea and Dimmock, Greg and Mycroft. So thank you. Now to the birthday boy or man now I suppose. Hamish. John and I never thought of having children. We thought our lives were complete until we met you. You arrived at this flat completely unexpected. And though we never thought we would need a child we soon found that we couldn’t imagine life without you. I will always be grateful to your mother for picking me. And I am so very glad I said yes. Now on this day you are a man. John and I are proud of the person you have become. We hope you will continue to walk this path you have chosen without wavering. That you will listen to your heart as much as you listen to your brain. That you will always chose to do right. That you always remember that John and I love you. Raise your glasses in celebration of my son. Cheers.”

“Cheers!”

Hamish throws his arms around my shoulders.

“I love you Papa.” He whispers.

I kiss his head.

“I love you too….Hammy.”


	18. Their Last Bow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. The ending. This is the last installment of this series. Thank you for following me on this journey, I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have.
> 
> Six years later: Hamish is twenty-two and William is twenty-one.

“Thank you for coming out today. I think the last time you were all gathered here was when Sherlock Holmes came back from the dead.”

A cheer goes up in the gathered media crowd and Papa’s fan club.

Our friends and family were also present.

Hammy and I clap.

“And it is for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson-”

Papa leans in and whispers something to Dimmock.

“My apologies. It is for Sherlock Watson-Holmes and Doctor John Watson-Holmes that we have gathered here today. I think this had been long overdue.”

“No kidding.” Papa says.

The crowd chuckles.

“Today we are here to honor and give thanks to two great men who have been risking their lives and helping to keep criminals off the streets.”

I look at Papa and Dad standing on the stage.

Dad looks at me.

I smile and give him a small wave.

He smiles back before looking back at Dimmock.

Hammy was sitting to my left filming the whole thing.

“Sherlock Holmes first began to work with us in 2004 and John Watson started in 2009. I’m not saying that’s it been an easy partnership, they always had a way of getting into and causing trouble.”

Uncle Greg chuckles from his place on my right.

“But time after time, without fail, they helped Scotland Yard capture and convict criminals. Time after time they have helped our detectives solve cases that had long gone unsolved.”

The crowd claps.

“And in the time they had in between, they have also tackled private cases. I am very proud to stand here today and present these two men with medals for their bravery and dedication.”

The crowd goes into an uproar of applause as Dimmock gives Papa and Dad their medals.

“Speech! Speech! Speech!”

Dad and Papa stand in front of the podium.

“Well.” Dad says clearing his throat. “Even though we don’t solve cases for the recognition or the money. I have to say that this feels really good. Is this solid gold?”

Dimmock nods.

“I might never take this off.”

We laugh.

“Thank you. No so much for recognizing me for the small part I play in all of this, but for finally recognizing Sherlock for all he has done.”

“John is being modest. He likes to downplay the part he plays in our partnership.”

Dad and Papa smile at each other.

“When I first started working with Sherlock, I thought he was insane and brilliant. I thought the only role I would play in his life would be that of a flat mate. But because I am also insane, just a bit, we were soon running around London and breaking into crime scenes. Much to the chagrin of Greg Lestrade.” Dad says smiling at Uncle Greg. “I’m not saying it’s been a walk in the park but helping people is what we do. Well, it’s what I do. Sherlock just likes to insult people and prove everyone wrong.”

We laugh.

“Thank you John.” Papa says taking his turn. “Insulting people and proving them wrong is half the fun. The other half is solving the case. Thank you for all of this. Being a Consulting Detective is all I ever wanted to be and I have enjoyed, not always, working with Scotland Yard. They gave me an opportunity to prove exactly what I could do. So thank you for that and a special thank you to my partner in crime, John Watson-Holmes. Who brought us to fame with his little blog. I’m sure most of you have heard of it.”

A loud cheer goes up in the crowd.

Dad smiles.

“But though we do love solving mysteries, John and I have an announcement we would like to make at this time. We are not young anymore and we can no longer give our fullest to the job.”

I look at Hamish in alarm.

He squeezes my hand in his.

“So we would like to announce our retirement.”

Gasps and protests go up from the crowd.

“We would have loved to do this until the day we died but we cannot. So we will be leaving the crime solving to our children who have done an excellent job of keeping up the family business. Hamish and William who you have also met.” Papa says nodding at us.

The flash of the cameras blinds me momentarily.

“Thank you for allowing us to do what we have loved. Thank you for supporting us in our endeavor. I ask that you do the same for our children. Thank you.” Papa says stepping away from the podium.

The crowd rises to their feet and applauds our parents.

Papa and Dad take a bow.

My eyes fill with tears.

Hamish puts an arm around me.

Uncle Greg pats my hand.

I watch my parents stand up there and I can see them. See what they were before: the Detective and the Doctor. Brought together by a need for friendship and danger. 

I wipe my eyes and cheer for the greatest Detective to have lived.

For the braves man to have walked alongside that Detective.

I cheered for the greatest men we had ever known.

**********************

Three Months Later

“This one might be interesting.”

Hamish looks up from his microscope.

“Lady Frances, daughter of the late Earl of Rufton, has been missing for five weeks. Her last known location was Lausanne. She is a woman of precise habits and every week she spoke with her Aunt who lives in Camberwell. A large sum of money was retracted from Lady Frances’ account the day before she disappeared. For whom or why is unknown. The police were contacted but there has been no word as of yet. Her family is anxious to know if she still lives. Money is no obstacle as her family is extremely wealthy and they are willing to pay a large sum if we can clear this matter up.”

“Hmm.”

“What do you think?”

“I think they’re trying to entice us with the money.”

“No. Not about that. The case. What do you think of the case?”

“I think you need to look for the best way to get us to Lausanne.” He says standing and buttoning his jacket. “I will speak with Dimmock and see if I can get any more information from him.”

We look at each other.

“The game is on.”

“That’s my line! Will!”

I laugh.

“You don’t get to say it all the time.”

“Yes I do. I’m the Consulting Detective.”

“We’re both Consulting Detectives and you have to let me say it more often than not.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m the youngest and privilege goes to the youngest.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t. And I thought we agreed that you were going to keep your experiments down in 221A?”

“Ugh. Nag, nag, nag.”

“And don’t think I’m going to carry your luggage either.”

“I’m going now.” He says going down the stairs.

I stand and walk to the doorway.

“Bring back dinner.”

“Chinese!”

“Love you!”

“Love you too!”

The front door slams shut.

I sit back down at the desk.

“Well Skully, it looks like it’s you and me for a while.” I tell the skull on the mantle.

I look at the picture of Papa and Dad.

I smile at them before turning back to my laptop.

“Alright. Where the hell is Lausanne and how do we get there?”

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos. The case comes from Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories Volume II called ‘The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax’.


End file.
